JAN  16  1919 


BR  127  .N4 

Newton,  Richard  Heber,  184 

1914. 
Catholicity 


CATHOLICITY 


A    TREATISE     ON     THE     UNITY    OF 
RELIGIONS 


BY 


JAN  16  1919 
%OeiCAL  %l^^ 


REV.  R.  HEBER  NEWTON,  D.D. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND    LONDON 

Ube  iRntcfterbocfter  ipress 
1918 


Copyright,  iqiS 

BY 

F.    MAURICE    NEWTON 


Ube  -Rnlchecbocftcr  press,  "ttew  IJorli 


EDITOR'S  NOTE 

Catholicity  is  the  author's  second  posthumous 
volume.  The  Mysticism  of  Music  appeared  in 
191 5;  the  present  volume  would  have  followed 
sooner  had  not  war  reading  so  wholly  absorbed 
attention  as  to  make  advisable  a  temporary  post- 
ponement of  its  publication.  These  conditions 
still  continuing — and  the  reconstruction  literature 
to  follow  will  be  far  greater  than  the  war  reports — 
there  begins  now  a  new  turning  on  the  part  of  the 
suffering  people  to  religious  thought.  Stricken 
by  personal  or  national  grief,  men  and  women  are 
seeking  understanding,  assurance  and  comfort. 
The  thesis  of  this  book  bears  so  directly  on  the 
theme  of  universality  upon  which  statesmen  and 
laymen  are  planning  the  future,  that  now  the 
volume  may  find  its  readers  and  help  them — be, 
in  fact,  part  of  their  reconstruction  literature. 

The  material  here  had  all  been  given  in  articles, 
addresses  and  sermons,  and  nearly  all  had  found 

iii 


iv  Editor's  Note 

print  in  reports  and  magazines.  Several  of  the 
present  chapters  had  been,  in  substance  or  in 
their  present  form,  parts  of  courses  more  fully 
developed  on  special  lines;  some  were  addresses 
before  the  Congress  of  Religions  and  the  New  York 
State  Conference  of  Religion.  All  had  belonged 
to  the  present  sequence  which  Dr.  Newton  had 
had  in  mind,  and  which  he  wanted  to  give  in 
book  form. 

The  volume  as  it  stands  was,  then,  planned  by 
Dr.  Newton,  the  title  chosen,  and  the  contents 
determined — some  parts  definitely,  some  pro- 
visionally. Actual  work  upon  the  editing  was 
started  during  the  last  year  of  his  life.  The  present 
editing  has  been  completed  with  no  changes  of 
material  and,  to  the  slight  extent  determined,  no 
changes  in  arrangement.  Familiarity  with  the 
author's  thought  and  method  made  it  tempting  to 
supplement  certain  passages  and  to  undertake  a 
more  thorough  composing  of  the  whole,  as  Dr. 
Newton  would  unquestionably  have  done.  And 
the  war,  of  which  he  saw  only  the  opening  months, 
is  prepounding  questions  and  offering  clarifications 
so  applicable  to  this  discussion,  that  again  there  has 


Editor's  Note  v 

been  the  temptation  to  interpolate,  as  he  would 
have  done.  But  respect  for  the  greater  value  of 
his  own  writing,  though  unedited,  over  attempted 
betterment  by  any  other  hand  led  to  a  preference 
of  a  slight  sacrifice  of  finish  of  synthesis  and  style 
for  assurance  to  the  reader  of  original  authorship. 

F.  M.  N. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — Christianity  a  Re-Baptized  Pagan- 
ism          I 

II. — The  Cypher  of  the  Cross       .         .  37 

III. — The  Witness  of  Sacred  Symbolism 

to  the  Unity  of  Religion    .         .  86 

IV. — Christianity  the  Flower  of  Pagan- 
ism       ......  109 

V. — The  Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism — 

The  Open  Secret  of  Christianity  138 

VI. — Religion  and  Religions  .         .         .171 

VII. — The  Limits  of  Religious  Fellowship  .  198 

VIII. — The  Possibilities  of  Common  Wor- 
ship      ......  228 

IX. — Christianity  in  Evolution       .         .  258 

X. — A  Survival  of  the  Fittest      .         .  302 

XL — The  Issues 335 


Vll 


CATHOLICITY 


CHRISTIANITY  A  RE-BAPTIZED 
PAGANISM 

POE  did  not  mention  the  names  of  all  the  com- 
pany present  on  that  famous  evening  when  an 
Egyptian  mummy  came  to  life  in  the  midst  of  the 
social  group,  and  talked  so  eloquently  about  the 
industrial  wonders  which  we  moderns  have  im- 
agined to  be  the  discoveries  of  our  own  civilization, 
but  which  he  showed  were  the  familiar  triumphs 
of  the  land  of  the  Pharaohs.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
without  betraying  any  confidences,  that  the  day 
after  that  memorable  entertainment  certain  of 
us  of  that  company  found  ourselves  in  the  Eternal 
City — by  the  agency  of  an  **  Atlantic  Instantane- 
ous  Transportation   Company,    Limited,"  which 


2  Catholicity 

has  not  yet  laid  its  prospectus  before  the  public, 
and  whose  secret,  a  secret  wrapped  up  in  the  awe 
that  envelops  the  possibilities  of  our  "magic 
carpet"  air  craft,  may  not  therefore  be  divulged 
to  the  uninitiate.  In  this  little  company  were 
an  Ultramontane  Priest,  a  Broad  Church  Parson, 
and  a  Westerner  who  swore  by  (and  after)  the 
great  prophet  of  America,  the  irKev.  Dr.  Ingot- 
soil,  together  with  the  resurrected  Egyptian  who, 
in  the  course  of  the  unrecorded  conversation  of  the 
preceding  evening,  had  disclosed  himself  as  equally 
at  home  among  the  antiquities  of  religion.  That 
cultivated,  traveled,  cosmopolitan  of  the  ancient 
world  had  manifested  a  great  curiosity  concerning 
the  ecclesiastical  rites  and  usages  of  the  religion 
that  he  found  in  possession  of  the  world  upon 
which  he  had  so  strangely  reopened  his  eyes;  and 
this  extemporized  jaunt  was  the  result  of  that 
curiosity.  We  were  walking  one  of  the  well- 
known  streets  of  Rome  on  our  way  toward  a 
certain  church — a  church,  however,  which  no 
reader  of  these  pages  need  consult  his  "Murray" 
to  locate,  until  he  has  first  found  and  studied  that 
typical  plant  of  which  Goethe  saw  hints  in  the 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism  3 

flora  of  Weimar — when  the  conversation  began 
that,  as  taken  from  the  memoranda  of  one  of 
the  party,  is  sketched  in  the  brief  narration 
which  follows :  for  brevity's  sake,  the  dramatis  per- 
soncB  being  somewhat  cavalierly  indicated  simply 
as  Pagan,  Ecclesiastic,  Broad  Churchman  and 
Philistine. 

On  our  way.  Pagan  asked  what  we  called  the 
day.  We  told  him  that  it  was  Sunday;  ''which," 
observed  Broad  Churchman,  "was  set  apart  by 
the  edict  of  Constantine  as  a  period  of  '  rest  on  the 
venerable  day  of  the  Sun. '  "  On  his  asking  what 
were  the  other  festivals  of  the  Church,  Ecclesiastic 
ran  rapidly  over  the  Kalendar,  with  such  comments 
as  these  from  Pagan:  "  'Christmas' — our  old 
Saturnalia;  'Easter' — the  most  ancient  festival 
of  the  spring;  'Candlemas  Day' — one  of  our  joy- 
ous feasts  in  honor  of  the  goddess  Neith,  observed 
as  I  note  on  the  very  day  marked  for  it  in  your 
Christian  Kalendar;  'Lady  Day' — the  old-time 
day  of  '  the  Mother  of  the  Gods, '  also  on  the  same 
date  as  our  ancient  festival;  'the  Festival  of 
the  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary ' — our 
Roman  Festival    of  the  Miraculous  Conception 


4  Catholicity 

of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Juno,  again  upon  the  same 
date  which  the  ancient  world  observed."  Pagan 
wanting  to  know  somewhat  of  the  saints  of  the 
Kalendar,  Ecclesiastic  chanced  to  dilate  upon  the 
story  of  St.  Josaphat;  of  which  he  remarked: 
"Why  this  is  none  other  than  the  legend  of  the 
Buddha  himself." 

As  we  passed  along,  the  attention  of  our  friend 
was  drawn  to  various  churches,  and  he  was  ob- 
served to  inspect  the  inscriptions  somewhat  curi- 
ously; quietly  remarking  before  one  fagade,  "This 
looks  as  though  the  old  Pagan  legend  had  been 
Christianized  by  very  slight  touches.  'To  the 
Divinity  of  St.  George  the  Availing,  the  Powerful, 
the  Unconquered '  is  plainly  the  old  inscription, 
'To  the  Divinity  of  Mercury  the  Availing,  the 
Powerful,  the  Unconquered,'  with  'Mercury* 
erased  and  'St.  George'  carved  in." 

The  form  of  many  of  these  churches  attracted 
Pagan's  notice.  "Here,"  he  observed,  "are  the 
old  Roman  basilicas,  those  great  halls  of  trade 
and  commerce  and  justice,  transformed  into 
Christian  churches."  Arriving  at  last  before  the 
church  to  which  we  were  bound,  he  paused  to 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism  5 

examine  the  external  aspect.  ''It  is  cruciform," 
he  observed,  ''as  were  many  of  the  old  world 
temples.  When  the  great  temple  of  Serapis,  in 
our  own  Alexandria,  was  demolished,  beneath  its 
foundation  was  discovered  a  cross.  Your  church 
faces  east,  as  did  our  sacred  temples,  to  receive 
the  rays  of  the  rising  sun."  The  first  thing  which 
arrested  his  attention  on  entering  was  the  font 
of  holy  water  by  the  door.  Ecclesiastic  having 
explained  its  use,  Pagan  observed:  "We  had  in 
many  of  our  temples  similar  fonts  of  holy  water, 
with  'the  same  significance.  Worshipers  washed 
their  hands  in  them,  on  entering,  admonishing 
themselves  to  come  forward  with  pure  minds  to 
the  service  of  the  gods." 

We  then  proceeded,  at  our  friend's  request,  to 
examine  more  carefully  the  symbolism  of  the  build- 
ing, as  presented  everywhere  on  walls  and  columns. 
"Triangle  and  trefoil,"  he  remarked,  "are  copied 
from  the  ancient  temples,  in  which  they  were 
used  to  symbolize  the  mystery  of  the  Divine  Trin- 
ity in  Unity.  This  Dove  was  likewise  commonly 
used  in  the  ancient  churches  as  a  symbol  of  the 
Divine  Spirit.     The  Sacred  Heart  we  had  also. 


6  Catholicity 

Horus,  the  Egyptian  Virgin-born  Saviour  was 
pictured  carrying  the  Sacred  Heart  upon  his 
breast.  Vishnu  and  Bel  were  depicted  in  the 
same  manner.  Those  three  letters  'I.  H.  S/ 
formed  the  monogram  of  Bacchus.  The  curious 
oval  frames  in  which  I  observe  pictures  of  some 
divine  woman" — "  Vesica  piscis  we  call  the  sym- 
bol," interposed  Ecclesiastic — "these  also  were 
in  our  temples.  They  assure  me  of  what  I  had 
already  suspected,  from  many  of  the  symbols 
which  I  have  observed,  that  very  much  of  your 
symbolism  in  this  Christian  church,  however  little 
you  may  suspect  it,  is  drawn  from  that  most  an- 
cient and  most  curious  form  of  religion  known  as 
Phallicism.  Your  devout  worshipers  would  surely 
be  astonished  and  possibly  revolted  if  they  knew 
the  original  significance  of  these  Phallic  symbols. 
I  presume  you  have  spiritualized  them  as  our 
devout  priests  had  done  in  my  time." 

Pursuing  our  inspection  of  the  sacred  building, 
we  came  upon  a  peasant  woman  on  her  knees, 
counting  her  beads.  "Such  beads  or  rosaries," 
Pagan  remarked,  "were  used  by  Buddhist  monks. 
There  were  rosaries  consisting  of  one  hundred  and 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism  7 

eight  beads,  sometimes  made  from  bones  of  de- 
parted saints;  each  rosary  representing  a  special 
prayer."  "Ours  have  one  hundred  and  fifty 
beads,  each  one  representing  an  Ave  or  Pater 
noster,"  observed  Ecclesiastic.  "We  had  also 
reliquaries,"  continued  Pagan,  "in  which  sacred 
relics  were  kept,  similar  to  these  which  I  observe 
here.  In  one  place  in  India,  Buddha's  robe  was 
kept — probably  quite  as  authentic  a  relic  as  the 
'holy  coat  of  Treves,'  of  which  you  have  just  told 
me.  I  do  not  think,  however,  that  your  priests 
have  as  yet  come  up  to  that  magnificent  relic 
of  the  Buddha,  the  shadow  of  Gautama,  which 
was  preserved  in  a  certain  cave,  and  which  could 
only  be  seen  by  the  faithful.  These  amulets  or 
charms  which  your  people  wear  are  very  much 
like  those  which  were  in  use  in  my  time.  This 
church  abounds  in  images  and  idols,  as  unfortu- 
nately did  our  temples;  and,  by  the  way,  many 
of  these  figures  are  most  certainly  our  old  gods 
rebaptized.  That  St.  Peter  is  surely  a  statue  of 
Jupiter,  with  the  keys  in  the  place  of  the  thunder- 
bolt. Some  of  these  images  of  your  Christ  seem 
to  be  our  Apollo  and  Orpheus  renamed.     This 


8  Catholicity 

'Black  Virgin,'  as  you  call  it,  which  certain  of 
your  people  seem  to  reverence  so  highly,  I  am  sure, 
from  the  inspection  that  I  have  made  of  it,  is  noth- 
ing more  nor  less  than  one  of  our  old  basalt  figures 
of  Isis.  We  did  not  have  such  boxes  as  these 
which  you  call  '  Confessionals ' ;  and  from  what 
you  tell  me  of  their  uses  I  am  very  glad  we  did 
not  have  them;  but  we  had  a  better  form  of 
confession:  a  public  acknowledgment  of  wrong- 
doing in  the  temples — a  most  salutary  observance 
which  kings  were  known  to  be  manly  enough  to 
use. 

While  waiting  for  the  chief  event  of  the  day  we 
rested  ourselves  in  some  of  the  stifT-back  chairs 
of  the  great  church.  Groups  of  monks  and  nuns 
caught  Pagan's  eye,  and  on  being  informed  con- 
cerning them  he  observed :  "  A  very  old  institution 
this  of  Monasticism.  Buddhism  had  most  fully 
developed  it.  In  one  city  alone  there  were  more 
than  one  hundred  monasteries  and  ten  thousand 
nuns  and  novices.  Our  own  Egypt  had  devel- 
oped quite  extensively  the  cenobitic  form  of 
monasticism.  I  am  not  sure  but  your  very  word 
'nun'  is  of  Eastern  origin." 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism  9 

Some  casual  reference  having  been  made  to  the 
rite  of  exorcism,  Pagan  asked  for  further  informa- 
tion concerning  it.  Ecclesiastic  showed  him  a 
ritual  by  Paul  V.,  as  revised  by  Benedict  XIV., 
which  he  proceeded  to  compare  with  the  Kabalistic 
ritual  that  had  been  familiar  to  the  initiates  of 
Judaism  and  Paganism;  pointing  out  the  singu- 
larly close  parallelisms  which  held  between  the 
two  forms  of  service,  as  follows : 


Kabalistic  ritual  for  the  exor- 
cism of  salt: 

"Priest-Magician  blesses  the 
salt,  and  says:  Creature  of  salt, 
in  thee  may  remain  the  wisdom 
(of  God) ;  and  may  it  preserve 
from  all  corruption  our  minds 
and  bodies.  Through  Hoch- 
mael  (God  of  Wisdom.)  and  the 
power  of  Ruach-Hochmael  (the 
Holy  Spirit)  may  the  spirits 
of  matter  before  it  recede. — 
Amen." 


Roman  ritual  for  the  exorcism 

of  salt: 

"The  Priest  blesses  the  salt 
and  says :  Creature  of  salt,  I  ex- 
orcise thee  in  the  name  of  the 
living  God.  Become  the  health 
of  the  soul  and  of  the  body! 
Everywhere  where  thou  art 
thrown  may  the  unclean  spirit 
be  put  to  fight. — Amen." 


At  this  point  our  friend's  notice  was  drawn  to  a 
shrine  of  Mary,  in  which  was  one  of  the  familiar 
representations  of  the  sacred  Mother  and  Child. 
He    seemed    greatly    pleased    with    this.     "The 


10  Catholicity 

virgin-mother,"  he  said,  "was  common  to  various 
ancient  rehgions.  India  had  Maya,  the  virgin- 
mother  of  Buddha,  and  Devaki,  the  virgin-mother 
of  Christna;  each  of  whom  was  represented  by 
art  in  the  great  temples  as  holding  her  divinely 
born  son  in  her  arms,  in  forms  that  might  well 
take  the  place  of  this  Christian  Mary.  The  Egyp- 
tian Isis  had  the  same  character,  and  was  pic- 
tured after  the  same  fashion.  She  was  even  repre- 
sented, as  your  Mary  appears,  standing  on  the 
crescent  moon,  with  twelve  stars  about  her  head. 
The  artistic  resemblance  is  so  close  that,  unless  your 
historians  can  trace  your  traditional  picture  of 
Mary  quite  thoroughly,  it  seems  to  me  quite 
probable  that  it  was  drawn  bodily  from  our  Egyp- 
tian representation  of  Isis."  In  answer  to  a 
request  for  further  information  concerning  the 
offices  of  worship  addressed  to  the  mother  of  God, 
Ecclesiastic  showed  him  the  Litany  of  our  Lady 
of  Loretto,  between  which  and  the  Hindu  Litany 
of  our  Lady  Nari  and  the  Egyptian  Litany  of 
Our  Lady  Isis  he  proceeded  to  institute  a  compari- 
son, some  of  the  more  notable  features  of  which 
are  as  follows: 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         n 


HINDU 

Litany  of  our  Lady 
Nari:  Virgin. 

Holy  Nari,  Mother  of 
perpetual  fecundity. 

Mother  of  an  incar- 
nate God. 

Mother  of  Christna. 

Virgin  most  chaste. 

Mirror  of  Supreme 
Conscience. 

Queen  of  Heaven  and 
of  the  universe. 


EGYPTIAN 

Litany  of  our  Lady 

Isis:  Virgin. 
Holy    Isis,    universal 

mother. 
Mother  of  Gods. 

Mother  of  Horus. 
Virgin  sacred  earth. 
Mirror  of  Justice  and 

Truth. 
Queen  of  Heaven  and 

of  the  universe. 


ROMAN   CATHOLIC 

Litany  of  our  Lady  of 
Loretto:  Virgin, 

Holy  Mary,  Mother 
of  divine  grace. 

Mother  of  God. 

Mother  of  Christ. 
Virgin  most  chaste. 
Mirror  of  Justice. 

Queen  of  Heaven. 


A  little  assemblage  at  the  baptistery  attracted 
our  friend's  notice,  and  he  wandered  thither; 
Ecclesiastic  duly  discoursing  of  the  supernatural 
origin  and  mystic  powers  of  this  sacred  rite. 
Pagan  watched  the  ceremony  with  great  interest, 
and  when  it  was  over  remarked:  "Baptism  is  one 
of  the  oldest  rites  of  religion,  and  was  observed 
in  ancient  times  by  most  nations  in  their  myste- 
ries. From  the  very  earliest  period  known  to 
history,  water  was  used  as  the  outward  and  visible 
form  of  a  religious  sacrament,  the  symbol  of  a 
spiritual  regeneration.  Candidates  for  initiation 
into  the  higher  life  were  plunged  in  consecrated 
water  at  the  hands  of  the  officiating  priests.     In 


12  Catholicity 

India,  under  certain  forms  of  Brahmanism,  there 
was  such  an  initiatory  rite.  An  oath  was  made 
by  the  would-be  initiate,  pledging  him  amongst 
other  things  to  purity  of  body.  Water  was  then 
sprinkled  over  him;  he  was  invested  in  a  white 
robe;  a  cross  was  marked  on  his  forehead  and  he 
was  given  the  mystic  word  A  U  M.  Sometimes 
this  Brahmanistic  baptism  was  performed  by  the 
bank  of  a  sacre.d  river,  into  which  the  priest 
plunged  the  candidate  three  times;  praying  over 
him,  *0  Supreme  Lord,  this  man  is  impure  like 
the  mud  of  this  stream ;  but  as  water  cleanses  him 
from  this  dirt,  do  Thou  free  him  from  his  sin. ' 
Buddhism,  in  some  of  its  forms,  had  a  similar 
ceremony.  The  new-born  babe  was  dipped  in 
sacred  water  three  times  and  a  name  given  to  it. 
The  ancient  Persian  carried  his  babe  to  the  temple 
shortly  after  its  birth,  and  presented  it  to  the 
priest,  who  baptized  it  after  a  similar  fashion; 
the  father  then  giving  the  child  its  name.  The 
Mithraic  Mysteries  had  such  a  service  for  adults, 
in  which  the  foreheads  of  the  initiates  were  signed 
with  the  sacred  sign — the  cross.  Our  own  Egyp- 
tians had  the  same  rite  of  baptism,  and  the  Myste- 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         13 

lies  of  Isis  thus  received  the  initiate.  This  rite 
was  known  as  the  'water  of  ablution';  and  the 
person  mystically  purified  was  said  to  be  're- 
generated.' Our  devout  churchmen,  in  ancient 
times,  developed  the  same  sacramentarianism 
which  I  recognize  in  the  words  of  my  friend  Eccle- 
siastic. This  holy  rite  was  held  to  have  a  mystic 
power  independent  of  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
initiate;  a  superstitious  opinion  which  a  certain 
Greek  historian  sneeringly  rebuked  thus:  'Poor 
wretch,  do  you  not  see  that,  since  these  sprinklings 
cannot  repair  your  grammatical  errors,  they  can- 
not repair  the  faults  of  your  life.'  " 

To  all  which  Broad  Churchman  responded: 
"What  you  say  was  confirmed  by  so  sound  an 
ecclesiastical  authority,  in  the  vanguard  of  schol- 
ars, as  our  own  Dr.  Lundy,  who,  in  his  great  work 
on  Monumental  Christianity,  remarks,  'John  the 
Baptist  simply  adopted  and  practiced  the  univer- 
sal custom  of  sacred  bathing  for  the  remission  of 
sins.  Christ  sanctioned  it;  the  Church  inherited 
it  from  his  example. '  " 

Turning  away  from  the  baptistery.  Pagan  pro- 
ceeded to  descant  upon  the  sacred  sign  of  the  cross. 


14  Catholicity 

which  he  had  observed  in  use  in  the  baptismal 
office  and  which  he  had  noticed  everywhere  in  the 
sacred  building.  "If  you  have  learned  archae- 
ologists and  numismatists,  they  must  have  told 
you  that  the  cross  was  a  universal  and  world- 
old  religious  symbol,  and  that  it  was  used  in  most, 
if  not  all,  of  the  ancient  sacred  mysteries.  Hindus, 
Assyrians,  Egyptians,  and  Romans  alike  employed 
this  sacred  sign.  A  cross  hung  upon  the  breast 
of  Tiglath  Pileser  in  a  colossal  tablet  from  Nim- 
roud  that  was  in  the  Museum  of  Alexandria. 
The  cross  was  the  symbol  of  the  Hindu  god  Agni, 
'the  Light  of  the  World.'  It  was  found  in  our 
Egyptian  temples,  and  was  worn  from  necklaces 
around  the  throats  of  our  pious  ladies,  just  as  I 
have  observed  your  good  women  wearing  it  here 
to-day.  One  of  its  common  forms  which  I  ob- 
served here,  the  cross  and  orb,  is  an  exact  repro- 
duction of  a  familiar  Egyptian  symbol,  the  mystic 
Tau.  The  origin  and  significance  of  this  singular 
symbol  was  much  discussed  in  our  times.  By 
many  it  was  held  to  have  been  originally  a  Phallic 
sign,  which  in  the  gradual  spiritualizing  of  religion 
came  to  stand  for  the  mystery  of  life  spiritual 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         15 

rather  than  Hfe  physical,  for  regeneration  rather 
than  generation.  Our  occultists  and  mystics  had 
various  subtle  and  ingenious  explanations  of  the 
higher  significances  of  the  sacred  cross,  which  I 
dare  say  your  learned  men  still  reproduce. ' '  Where- 
upon Broad  Churchman  interposed  again:  "This 
fact  of  the  antiquity  of  the  cross  as  a  religious  sym- 
bol is  clearly  recognized  by  our  modern  scholars. 
Bishop  Colenso,  in  the  '  Pentateuch  Examined,* 
writes  thus: 

From  the  dawn  of  organized  Paganism  in  the  East- 
ern world  to  the  final  establishment  of  Christianity 
in  the  West,  the  cross  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
commonest  and  most  sacred  of  symbolical  monu- 
ments. ...  Of  the  several  varieties  of  the  cross 
still  in  vogue  .  .  .  there  is  not  one  amongst  them  the 
existence  of  which  may  not  be  traced  to  the  remotest 
antiquity.  They  were  the  common  property  of  the 
Eastern  nations. 

And  if  his  opinion  be  that  of  a  theological  'sus- 
pect,' it  is  amply  buttressed  by  more  orthodox 
authorities.  '  Chambers's  Encyclopedia  '  declared: 
*  It  appears  that  the  sign  of  the  cross  was  in  use 
as  an  emblem,  having  certain  religious  and  mystic 


i6  Catholicity 

meanings  attached  to  it,  long  before  the  Christian 
era.'  Our  own  most  orthodox  presbyter,  Dr. 
Lundy,  confesses:  'We  actually  find  among  all 
the  ancient  nations  that  had  astronomical  systems 
.  .  .  the  cross  as  one  of  their  most  cherished  and 
precious  symbols. ' 

What  more  Broad  Churchman  might  have  pro- 
ceeded to  say  was  cut  short  at  this  point  by  the 
entrance  of  the  ecclesiastical  procession,  the  hour 
for  High  Mass  on  this  great  day  of  the  year  having 
arrived.  Pagan  was  quite  impressed  by  the  scenic 
beauty  of  the  pageant,  and  complimented  Eccle- 
siastic greatly  on  the  artistic  perfection  which  had 
been  reached  by  the  "floor-manager" — his  terms 
became  a  little  mixed  at  this  point  and  on 
the  admirableness  of  the  "properties"  generally. 
The  pageant  was  so  much  like  his  familiar  eccle- 
siastic mise  en  scene  that  he  almost  felt  himself 
transported  back  to  some  great  Isis  Day  at  Thebes. 
Turning  to  Broad  Churchman,  he  asked  him  if 
he  did  not  remember  the  eloquent  description  of 
the  priestly  procession  on  an  Isis  Day  given  by 
Apuleius;  or  Juvenal's  description  of  the  sacred 
image,  "escorted  by  the  tonsured,  surpliced  train." 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         17 

Broad  Churchman,  nodding  assent,  went  on  to 
give  the  Ancient  a  free  rendering  of  Dean  Stanley's 
account  of  the  historic  origin  of  the  ecclesiastical 
vestments  which  appeared  in  the  priestly  parade; 
tracing  surplice  and  alb  and  chasuble  and  cope  and 
all  their  kindred  regalia  to  the  one-time  common 
dress  of  the  Roman  citizen,  which,  as  it  became 
antiquated,  grew  sacred.  Pagan  smiled  in  quiet 
approval,  remarking :  "The  good  Dean  was  doubt- 
less right;  but  much  of  this  ecclesiastical  regalia 
has  a  far  more  ancient  origin.  Your  bishop's 
mitre  and  crosier  were  once  the  high  cap  and 
hooked  staff  of  one  of  our  gods.  The  tiara  of 
your  Pope — who,  by  the  way,  bears  himself 
superbly  in  this  sacred  pageant — is  a  perfect  copy 
of  that  of  the  Dalai- Lama  of  Thibet.  Your  Pope 
himself,"  he  observed,  turning  to  Ecclesiastic, 
"is  our  old  Pontifex  Maximus;  who,  in  his  turn, 
was  a  Western  reproduction,  greatly  modified, 
of-  the  Grand  Lama,  the  infallible  Head  of  the 
True  Church." 

The  office  of  the  Mass  interested  Pagan  greatly, 
and  from  time  to  time  he  interjected  in  respectful 
whisper  his  comments  on  the  proceedings.     "The 


1 8  Catholicity 

Thibetan  Buddhists  and  the  Chinese  Buddhists 
used  musical  bells  in  their  sacred  services,  very 
much  as  you  are  doing  here.  .  .  .  Most  of  the 
ancient  temple  services  saw  these  same  censers, 
swinging  clouds  of  aromatic  incense  before  our 
altars.  .  .  .  Your  altar,  too,  stood  in  our  temples, 
though  sometimes  we  called  it  the  'table.'  " 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  office,  Pagan  talked  at 
considerable  length  upon  the  ancient  sacred  rite 
to  which  the  Christian  Mass,  he  said,  bore  so 
remarkable  a  resemblance.  '*I  could  almost 
again  fancy  myself  back  at  our  ancient  Mysteries. 
Altar  and  chalice  and  paten,  sacred  bread  and 
wine,  the  sacramental  feast — all  these  we  initiates 
knew  quite  as  well  as  you  know  them.  In  India 
the  primitive  Vedic  religion  had  its  sacred  Soma, 
which  made  a  new  man  of  the  initiate ;  from  which 
he  was  reborn ;  which  gave  the  divine  power  of  in- 
spiration and  developed  a  spiritual  nature.  By 
this  sacrament  man  obtained  union  with  his 
divinity.  Thibet  had  a  sacrament  of  bread  and 
wine.  Our  own  Egyptians,  in  celebrating  the 
resurrection  of  Osiris,  commemorated  his  death  by 
a  sacred  meal;  eating  a  wafer  after  it  had  been 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         19 

consecrated  by  the  priest  and  had  become  the 
veritable  flesh  of  his  flesh.  This  bread  was  re- 
garded as  the  body  of  Osiris,  so  that  our  worship- 
ers beUeved  that  they  ate  their  God.  Mithraism 
had  also  its  eucharist,  with  ceremonies  quite 
similar  to  your  Christian  mysteries.  This  re- 
semblance even  extended  to  such  a  minute  feature 
as  your  round  wafer;  which  in  the  Mithraic 
Mysteries  was  an  emblem  of  the  solar  disc  or 
Mizd — a  possible  hint  of  the  etymological  key  to 
your  term  Missa.  When  the  worship  of  Mithra 
was  introduced  into  Rome,  this  sacrament  of 
bread  and  wine  was  celebrated  in  the  world's 
metropolis.  The  Greeks  also  had  their  Myste- 
ries, in  which  there  was  a  sacramental  supper, 
the  most  august  of  all  their  ceremonies,  wherein 
Ceres,  the  goddess  of  corn,  gave  men  her  flesh  to 
eat,  as  Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine,  gave  them  his 
blood  to  drink.  The  consecrated  cup  was  handed 
round,  just  as  was  done  here  this  morning  among 
your  clergy.  We  had  even  the  same  sacramental- 
ism  which  Ecclesiastic  evidently  cherishes,  as  I 
saw  by  his  attitude  during  your  Mass.  Do  you 
not  remember  how  Cicero  exclaims  in  one  place: 


20  Catholicity 

'  Can  a  man  be  so  stupid  as  to  imagine  that  which 
he  eats  to  be  a  god?' 

Observing  the  uneasiness  of  Ecclesiastic,  Broad 
Churchman  interposed  at  this  point  saying,  ''This 
is  a  deHcate  subject  for  our  priestly  friend.  He 
would  much  rather  that  you  should  have  observed 
the  judicious  silence  of  the  scholarly  presbyter  who 
wrote  'Monumental  Christianity' — in  all  other 
matters  so  entirely  frank,  but  here  so  prudently 
reticent.  But  if  he  slides  quickly  over  this  thin 
ice,  others  seem  less  careful.  Of  course  so  unsound 
a  writer  as  Renan  does  not  weigh  heavily,  although 
he  does  refer  in  his  'Hibbert  Lectures,'  delivered 
under  the  shadow  of  Westminster  Abbey,  to  the 
fact  that  Mithraicism  'had  a  eucharist — a  supper 
so  like  the  Christian  Mysteries. '  But  Ecclesiastic 
may  perhaps  even  now  recall  the  dreadful  page 
of  the  learned  Mosheim  in  whose  utterly  sound 
opinions  we  were  both  so  well  schooled  in  our 
alma  mater  of  Theology,  but  who  for  once  forgot 
that  silence  is  golden.  'The  profound  respect 
that  was  paid  to  the  Greek  and  Roman  Mysteries, 
and  the  extraordinary  sanctity  that  was  attributed 
to  them,  induced  the  Christians  of  the  second 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        21 

century  to  give  their  religion  a  mystic  air,  in  order 
to  put  it  upon  an  equal  footing  in  point  of  dignity 
with  that  of  the  Pagans.  For  this  purpose  they 
gave  the  name  of  Mysteries  to  the  institutions  of 
the  Gospels,  and  decorated  particularly  the  ''Holy 
Sacrament"  with  that  title;  they  used  the  very 
terms  employed  in  the  Heathen  Mysteries,  and 
adopted  some  of  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  which 
those  renowned  mysteries  consisted.'  " 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  Mass,  as  our  little 
company  left  the  church.  Ecclesiastic — who  it 
must  be  confessed  had  from  time  to  time  turned 
away  his  ears  in  holy  horror  when  Pagan  had 
been  talking  thus  sacrilegiously,  a  horror  that 
seemed  intensified  when  his  own  brother  church- 
man stooped  to  act  the  part  of  ''chorus"  to  this 
blasphemous  monologue — felt  moved  to  improve 
the  opportunity  and  speak  a  word  in  season  to 
the  poor  benighted  heathen,  which  might  perhaps 
convert  him  so  far  as  to  make  him  anxious  to 
avail  himself  of  the  rites  of  the  One  True  Catholic 
and  Infallible  Church,  while  he  was  out  for  an 
airing  from  Tartarus.  The  notes  of  this  eloquent 
dissertation   upon   the   unique   character   of   the 


22  Catholicity 

Catholic  Church,  the  miraculous  origin  of  its 
rites,  the  supernatural  powers  of  its  priesthood, 
the  efficacy  of  its  sacraments  as  the  one  means  of 
entering  upon  eternal  life,  and  the  infallibility  of 
its  oracles,  were  unfortunately  lost;  but  they  can 
easily  be  reproduced  from  the  pages  of  well-know^n 
ecclesiastical  writers,  or  heard  repeated  in  most 
of  our  cathedrals.  At  the  end  of  this  unctuous 
harangue,  which  had  gradually  risen  into  the 
orthodox  orotund.  Pagan  quietly  asked:  "If  all 
this  be  so,  what  do  you  make  of  this  remarkable 
resemblance,  to  say  the  least,  between  your  eccle- 
siasticism  and  our  ancient  paganism?"  Eccle- 
siastic, being  a  thorough-going  churchman,  who, 
with  the  true  invincibility  of  faith,  however  he 
might  strain  at  a  gnat,  was  always  ready  to  swal- 
low a  sound  camel,  replied  unhesitatingly:  "Good 
Abbe  Hue's  '  Travels  in  Thibet '  should  never  have 
been  placed  on  the  'Index.'  Your  pagan  rites 
were  certainly,  as  he  affirmed^  the  counterfeits  of 
the  true  articles,  palmed  off  upon  mankind  by  the 
ingenuity  of  the  devil  in  order  to  bewilder  men — 
Satanic  imitations  of  the  One  Divine  Institution. 
The  Holy  Church  ought  not  to  have  gone  back 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        23 

upon  him  in  such  a  fashion.  The  venerable 
Fathers,  by  whom  all  good  churchmen  swear, 
anticipated  his  courageous  utterances.  Justin 
Martyr,  in  speaking  of  the  Mithraic  rites,  observed, 
'which  things  indeed  the  evil  spirits  have  taught 
to  be  done  out  of  mimicry. '  Tertullian,  with  the 
same  boldness  of  faith,  declared :  '  The  devil,  whose 
business  is  to  pervert  the  truth,  mimics  the  exact 
circumstances  of  the  divine  sacraments  in  the 
mysteries  of  idols.  Let  us  acknowledge  the  craft 
of  the  devil.  There  is  no  other  way  of  defending 
the  claims  of  the  Church  in  the  face  of  these  facts.'" 
Whereupon  Pagan,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  smiled 
and  quietly  observed,  "So  much  the  worse  for 
the  Catholic  Church.  It  is  not  usual  for  parents 
to  borrow  the  goods  of  their  unborn  children.  If 
the  devil  thus  imitated  the  rites  of  the  One  True 
Church,  he  must  have  had  a  most  singular  pre- 
science to  have  been  able  to  anticipate  their  exact 
form,  centuries  before  the  True  Church  arose. 
The  fact  is  plain,"  he  continued,  "  that  your  Catho- 
lic Church  shares  the  sacred  'properties'  of  reli- 
gion which  were  common  to  all  lands  and  all  ages. 
These   rites   were  indubitably  in   existence  long 


24  Catholicity 

before  Christianity  was  born.  The  only  natural 
explanation  is,  that  Christianity  adopted  them 
from  Paganism.  The  Church  may  have  found  it 
impossible  to  dispossess  these  traditionary  usages 
and  forms" — "As  some  of  the  Fathers  confess," 
put  in  Broad  Churchman — "or  she  may  have 
found  in  them  fitting  symbols  of  her  own  truths; 
but,  whatever  be  the  interpretation  of  the  fact, 
a  fact  unquestionably  it  is,  that  ecclesiastical 
Christianity  is  our  old  Paganism  re-baptized." 
He  turned  for  confirmation  of  his  views  to  Broad 
Churchman,  appealing  to  him  if  this  was  not  the 
recognized  view  of  scholars  even  in  the  Church? 
Broad  Churchman  frankly  rejoined  that  this  was 
undoubtedly  the  judgment  of  dispassionate  Chris- 
tian scholars.  "As  an  Egyptian,"  he  observed, 
"you  will  be  gratified  to  learn  what  Mr.  King, 
a  fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  declares 
in  his  work  on  '  The  Gnostics  ' : 

There  is  very  good  reason  to  believe  that  as  in  the 
East  the  worship  of  Serapis  was  at  first  combined  with 
Christianity,  and  gradually  merged  into  it  with  an 
entire  change  of  name,  not  substance,  carrying  with 
it  many  of  its  ancient  notions  and  rites;  so  in  the 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        25 

West  a  similar  influence  was  exerted  by  the  Mithraic 
religion. 

Our  friend  Ecclesiastic  would  not  question  the 
authority  of  such  a  scholar  as  Baronius,  yet  he 
writes : 

It  is  permitted  to  the  Church  to  use,  for  the  purpose 
of  piety,  the  ceremonies  which  the  Pagans  used  for 
the  purpose  of  impiety,  in  a  superstitious  religion, 
after  having  first  expiated  them  by  consecration,  to 
the  end  that  the  devil  might  receive  a  greater  affront 
from  employing,  in  honor  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  which 
his  enemy  had  destined  for  his  own  service. 

The  learned  Mosheim,  after  the  words  already 
quoted,  went  on  to  say, 

This  imitation  began  in  the  eastern  provinces,  but, 
after  the  time  of  Adrian,  who  first  introduced  the 
mysteries  among  the  Latins,  it  was  followed  by  the 
Christians  who  dwelt  in  the  western  part  of  the  empire. 
A  great  part,  therefore,  of  the  service  of  the  Church 
in  this — the  second — century,  had  a  certain  air  of  the 
Heathen  Mysteries,  and  resembled  them  considerably 
in  many  particulars. 

Our  own  Dr.  Lundy's  great  book  rests  upon 
the  fact  of  the  Pagan  source  of  our  Christian  sym- 


26  Catholicity 

bolism.  The  very  highest  authority  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Christian  symbols  testified:  'Their  origin, 
without  doubt,  must  be  traced  to  Paganism.'  " 

On  hearing  a  churchman  apparently  thus  give  a- 
way  his  own  case,  Philistine,  who  had  been  in  a  state 
of  highest  delight  for  the  last  hour  or  two,  could 
no  longer  restrain  himself ;  and  with  a  face  beam- 
ing with  satisfaction,  he  recited  a  favorite  sentence 
from  Renan  as  follows:  "Almost  all  our  supersti- 
tions are  the  remains  of  a  religion  anterior  to 
Christianity,  and  which  Christianity  has  not 
been  able  entirely  to  root  out."  Whereupon, 
he  proceeded  to  launch  forth  in  one  of  those  pro- 
found invectives  against  Christianity  which,  in  the 
early  years  of  his  education,  he  had  heard  served 
up  both  hot  and  cold  at  the  hands  of  the  ^VRev. 
Dr.  Ingot-soil,  when  conducting  the  worship  on 
Sunday  evenings  at  Booth's  Theatre — tickets 
50  cents;  reserved  seats,  $1.  He  denounced 
Christianity  as  a  fraud  of  the  priesthood,  and  ex- 
coriated the  Church  as  a  poor  imitation  of  Pagan- 
ism. He  talked  positively  about  the  absolute 
unhistoricalness  of  Jesus,  and  discoursed  learnedly 
as  to  the   Christian   Sun-myth;  interlarding  his 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        27 

dissertation  copiously  with  the  opinions  of  Higgins 
and  Inman  and  other  scholars  renowned  for  their 
good  judgment  and  lack  of  prejudice.  He  waxed 
wrothful  over  the  folly  of  attending  the  services 
of  such  a  Church,  and  grew  eloquent  on  the  duty 
of  emancipating  one's  self  from  its  childish  super- 
stitions, and  of  living  up  to  the  brand-new  gospel 
of  three  square  meals  a  day  and  a  "go-as-you- 
please"  walk  over  the  course  of  life.  As  he  closed, 
quite  out  of  breath  with  his  own  vehemence,  he 
turned  to  Pagan,  confident  of  his  approving  smile. 
To  his  unbounded  surprise,  however,  he  found 
the  cultivated  and  philosophic  ancient  far  from 
smiling  at  this  outburst.  A  frown  was  on  his 
classic  features  and  a  tone  of  stately  indignation 
was  in  his  voice  as  he  proceeded  to  reply.  "How- 
ever widely  I  differ  from  our  superstitious  friend, 
Ecclesiastic,  I  differ  yet  more  widely  from  you, 
my  irreverent  Philistine.  The  historic  nature  of 
these  Christian  symbols  makes  irresistibly  against 
the  false  claims  of  Ecclesiasticism,  undermin- 
ing completely  its  foundation  and  rendering  its 
gorgeous  superstructure  wholly  unsafe;  but  this 
historic  nature   of  the   Christian   symbols  in  no 


28  Catholicity 

sense  invalidates  the  true  claims  of  a  reasonable 
and  historic  Christianity.  If  antiquarians  have 
given  you  moderns  the  real  family  tree  of  your 
religious  institutionalism,  the  pretentiousness  of 
the  priesthood  may  be  subdued  to  a  lower  key — 
it  is  vain  to  hope  that  it  will  be  hushed  to  silence; 
but  the  honest  pride  of  the  Christian  religion  will 
be  vindicated,  in  a  far  more  venerable  ancestry 
than  it  had  suspected,  and  a  legitimacy  will  be 
evidenced,  as  the  sovereign  of  the  soul,  which 
history  itself  attests  and  which  the  plebiscite  of 
humanity  endorses. 

"Your  talk,  friend  Philistine,  seems  to  me 
thoroughly  irrational.  Granting  ecclesiastical 
Christianity  to  be  a  re-baptized  Paganism,  there 
is  in  this  nothing  necessarily  to  its  discredit.  It 
is  old,  you  say.  How  could  it  be  new,  if  it  be  in 
any  respect  true?  It  is  indeed  a  reproduction  of 
ancient  forms.  What  else  could  it  be,  if  it  is  a 
historic  development  of  humanity?  In  that  it 
lacks  originality  in  its  symbolism,  it  proves  itself 
the  heir  of  the  ages.  Must  not  religion  be  an  evolu- 
tion, as  man  is  himself  an  evolution?  Must  not 
the  latest  form  of  religion  grow  naturally  out  of 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        29 

the  earlier  forms,  absorb  their  characteristics  and 
reproduce  their  symboHsm  in  new  phases?     Must 
it  not  have  grown  with  the  growth  of  man  and 
carry  upon  it  still  in  maturity  the  relics  of  its 
childhood  days?     You  might  well  reject  Christian- 
ity utterly  if  its  outward  forms  did  not  betray  its 
ancestry  in  the  religions  of  the  past.     The  strong- 
est claim  for  Christianity  is  that  it  is  more  than 
Christian,   that  it  is  human.     In  that  you  can 
trace  its  roots  back  into  the  most  ancient  forms 
of  Paganism,  you  may  assure  the  scientific  spirit 
of  your  age  that  it  is  a  veritable  historic  evolution, 
a  natural  selection  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  the  highest  expression  of  the 
spiritual  nature  which  man  has  as  yet  been  able 
to  reach.     The  very  antiquity  of  these  rites  which 
we  have  seen  in  this  Christian  Church  bespeak  for 
them  therefore,  from  the  historic  mind  and  the 
spiritual  sense,  a  new  and  deeper  reverence.   As 
your   peasants    have    worshiped    to-day,    so    the 
people  of  our  earth  have  worshiped  through  cen- 
turies and  millenniums.     There  is  not  a  supersti- 
tious rite  but  that  loses,  in  the  mind  of  the  devout 
man,  its  mere  supers titiousness  as  he  beholds  it 


30  Catholicity 

glorified  by  the  hallowed  associations  of  ages,  the 
tender  memories  of  generations  upon  generations, 
who,  through  these  outward  and  visible  signs, 
have  reached  forth  into  the  mystery  of  the  all- 
encompassing  darkness,  feeling  after  God  if  haply 
they  might  find  Him. 

"You  moderns  need  not  be  over-fastidious  as 
to  the  crude  origin  of  your  rites.  In  what  else 
but  crude,  coarse,  material  conceptions  could  reli- 
gious symbolism  arise?  No  one  need  give  up 
any  sacred  symbol  which  he  has  heretofore  used 
because  he  learns  even  its  revolting  Phallic  origin. 
Not  what  the  symbol  meant  to  him  who  first  de- 
vised it,  but  what  it  means  to  him  who  now  uses 
it — that  is  its  true  significance.  It  must  have 
been  the  physical  phenomena  of  life  which  first 
arrested  the  attention  of  man  and  drew  his  wonder 
and  his  worship.  The  physical  forms  of  life  hold 
a  deeper  mystery,  which  was  sure  to  grow  on  his 
mind  as  he  grew  able  to  read  them  spiritually. 
Physical  phenomena,  under  the  universal  law  of 
correspondence,  came  to  shadow  realities  of  the 
spirit  sphere.  Cosmic  forces  and  laws  transmuted 
themselves   into   ethical   forces   and   laws.     This 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism        31 

spiritual  significance,  lying  always  latent  in  the 
core  of  those  worid-old  Phallic  symbols,  coming 
out  into  light  as  man's  consciousness  has  grown 
more  spiritual — this  must  be  the  true  meaning 
of  these  gross  primitive  imaginations.  Even  in 
our  ancient  Paganism  this  process  of  spiritualizing 
went  on  everywhere,  with  the  ethical  growth  of 
nations.  Whatever  the  cross  was  originally,  it 
became  in  the  higher  life  of  antiquity  a  symbol  of 
the  mystery  of  life  spiritual  and  eternal,  of  the 
sacrifice  through  which  the  Divine  Power  is  bless- 
ing man,  in  nature  and  in  history,  a  symbol  of 
the  very  truth  which  your  Christianity  sees  in 
it  to-day.  Those  world-wide,  world-old  symbols, 
from  the  least  up  to  the  greatest,  have  always 
thus  signed  real  truths.  Baptism  was  a  natural 
symbol  of  a  spiritual  purification,  and  it  is  such 
still — an  inevitable  rite,  if  religion  is  to  be  sym- 
bolical at  all.  A  Holy  Supper  in  which  the  human 
shall  feed  upon  the  divine  life,  this  too  is  as  natural 
as  nature.  Do  not  your  savants  tell  you  that 
which  our  sages  saw,  that  there  is  a  great  order 
of  plants  which,  carrying  the  sign .  of  the  cross 
enstamped  by  nature  upon  their  forms,  might  well 


32  Catholicity 

be  named  CrucifercB.  Were  I  a  Christian  I  should 
claim  that  Christianity  was  *a  republication  of 
natural  religion. '  Nor  in  claiming  this  would  I 
disclaim  its  legitimate  historical  character.  Since 
nature  is  one,  the  sign  in  which  our  ancient  myste- 
ries traced  the  deepest  mystery  of  nature  ought  to 
hold  valid  for  the  deepest  mysteries  of  human  life, 
if  man  be  nature's  crown  and  consummation,  and 
the  cosmic  symbol  should  prove  a  historic  symbol 
in  the  religion  which  is  at  once  natural  and  ethical. 
All  the  great  Saviours  of  humanity  have  brought 
salvation  to  man  in  the  sign  of  sacrifice.  They 
have  given  themselves  for  men.  I  recall  how 
Plato  dreamed  that  the  god  who  was  to  appear 
at  some  time,  the  Word  which  would  be  heard 
speaking  clearly  to  the  soul,  would  be  fashioned 
'decussated  in  the  form  of  the  letter  X.'  It  is 
natural  to  my  mind  that  the  latest  and  highest 
teacher,  the  greatest  Saviour,  should  have  ended 
his  self-sacrificing  life  upon  a  cross,  and  that  the 
cosmic  and  human  truths  should  thus  blend ;  that 
the  ideal  and  the  historic  cross,  becoming  one, 
should  become  the  sacred  sign  of  Christianity. 
The  most  striking  feature  of  Christian  religion, 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         33 

historically  viewed,  is  the  fact  that  it  has  gradu- 
ally clarified  its  early  rites,  spiritualized  its  mate- 
rial symbols,  purified  and  ennobled  its  ideas,  and 
re-baptized  Paganism  into  a  new  life — whose 
ethical  contrast  with  our  ancient  habits  you  can- 
not half  so  well  realize  as  I  do. 

"When  I  was  in  Egypt  I  worshiped  the  gods 
under  the  highest  conceptions  vouchsafed  to  me, 
through  the  noblest  forms  open  to  me.  So  I  do 
to-day,  reasonably  and  reverently;  and  in  so 
doing,  were  I  to  tarry  on  earth,  I  should  be  a 
Christian.  But  in  being  a  Christian  I  should 
feel  that  I  was  only  a  developed  Pagan.  We  who 
were  admitted  as  initiates  into  the  secrets  of  that 
esoteric  religion  which  was  guarded  from  the 
profanation  of  unripe  ages  in  the  Greater  Myste- 
ries, knew,  centuries  and  millenniums  ago,  the 
central  articles  of  all  forms  of  faith;  which  were 
revealed  to  him  who  had  eyes  to  see  in  our  sacred 
symbols,  and  which  are  to-day  taught  openly  to 
your  riper  age.  The  unity  of  God,  the  life  to 
come,  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  the  future, 
the  purification  of  the  soul  from  sin  through  suffer- 
ing— these  are  the  articles  of  the  one  true  creed 


34  Catholicity 

of  the  one  inner  religion  of  all  lands  and  ages; 
which  will  live  while  man  lives,  facing  the  same 
physical  nature  around  him  and  the  same  spiritual 
nature  within  him.  All  great  religious  symbols 
are  universal.  There  is  no  monopoly  of  sacred 
symbolism.  Such  a  scene  as  that  which  we  have 
beheld  to-day  is,  when  read  in  the  light  of  history, 
the  highest  possible  lesson  of  charity." 

As  Pagan  closed.  Broad  Churchman's  voice 
was  heard  as  though  soliloquizing:  "Is  not  this 
that  which  our  own  honest-souled  scholar  declares 
in  summing  his  great  work  on  '  Monumental  Chris- 
tianity ' — '  Religion  is  essentially  one  in  faith  and 
practice,  under  various  modifications,  perversions, 
corruptions  and  developments';  and  has  'had 
its  origin  in  the  human  mind  and  soul,  as  deriving 
all  their  thought,  hope  and  aspiration  from  some 
common  source  of  mind  and  soul'?  Was  not  this 
the  truth  which  one  of  the  venerable  Fathers  of 
the  Church  taught  when  he  spoke  of  the  Christian 
religion  as  having  existed  before  Christ,  only  under 
other  names?  Was  not  this  the  truth  that  an- 
other eminent  Father  inculcated  in  his  famous 
words:    'There  exists  not  a  people,  whether  Greek 


A  Re-Baptized  Paganism         35 

or  barbarian,  or  any  other  race  of  men,  by  what- 
soever appellation  or  manners  they  may  be  dis- 
tinguished, however  ignorant  of  arts  or  agriculture, 
whether  they  dwell  under  tents,  or  wander  about 
in  crowded  wagons,  among  whom  prayers  are  not 
offered  up  in  the  name  of  a  Crucified  Saviour  to 
the  Father  and  Creator  of  all  things'?"  And 
then,  in  sweet  and  solemn  tones,  the  music  of 
the  thought  imparting  its  rhythm  to  his  utterance, 
he  recited  a  passage  from  "The  Perfect  Way": 

It  (the  Cross)  was  traced  on  the  forehead  of  the 
neophyte  with  water  or  oil,  as  now  in  Catholic  Baptism 
and  Confirmation;  it  was  broidered  on  the  sacred 
vestments,  and  carried  in  the  hand  of  the  officiating 
hierophant,  as  may  be  seen  in  all  the  Egyptian  religious 
tablets.  This  S3rmbolism  has  been  adopted  by  and 
incorporated  into  the  Christian  theosophy,  not,  how- 
ever, through  a  tradition  merely  imitative,  but  be- 
cause the  Crucifixion  is  an  essential  element  in  the 
career  of  Christ.  For,  as  says  the  Master,  expound- 
ing the  secret  of  Messiahship,  "ought  not  the  Christ 
to  suffer  these  things,  and  so  enter  into  his  glory?" 
It  is  the  Tree  of  Life;  the  Mystery  of  the  Dual  Na- 
ture, male  and  female;  the  Symbol  of  Humanity 
perfected,  and  of  the  Apotheosis  of  Suffering.  It  is 
traced  by  "our  Lord  the  Sun"  on  the  plane  of  the 


36  Catholicity 

heavens;  it  is  represented  by  the  magnetic  and  dia- 
magnetic  forces  of  the  earth;  it  is  seen  in  the  ice- 
crystal  and  in  the  snow-flake;  the  human  form  itself 
is  modeled  upon  its  Pattern;  and  all  nature  bears 
throughout  her  manifold  spheres  the  impress  of 
this  sign,  at  once  the  prophecy  and  the  instrument  of 
her  redemption. 

Amid  the  strains  of  mystic  eloquence,  in  which 
the  fourfold  significance  of  the  perfect  way  opened 
on  our  souls,  the  deepest  thought  of  Paganism 
translating  itself  into  Christian  speech,  we  reached 
our  hotel;  where  Pagan  and  Ecclesiastic  left  us 
to  arrange  for  an  interview  with  the  Holy  Father, 
in  which  the  former  hoped  to  interpret  to  him  the 
esoteric  truths  of  his  own  religion,  while  the  latter 
sought  to  lay  upon  the  dogmata  of  his  hierarchy 
the  burden  of  his  beliefs.  We  took  our  way  back 
to  New  York  by  the  same  line  which  had  borne 
us  to  Rome;  and  I  found  myself  at  home  in  time 
for  breakfast. 


II 

THE   CYPHER  OF  THE  CROSS 

In  1645  a  fast  day  was  duly  observed  in  London, 
as  interpreted  by  a  Doctor  of  Theology  in  his 
sermon  on  that  day,  because  of  "monsters  un- 
heard-of theretofore,"  "now  common  among  us," 
''pleading  for  a  toleration  of  all  religions  and 
worships."  Of  this  breed  are  the  "monsters" 
who  now-a-days  gather  in  congresses  of  liberal 
religion.  But  alas!  —  such  is  the  lapse  of  time, 
and  such  the  facilis  descensus  of  all  monstrous- 
ness  in  religion — we  to-day  not  only  plead  for  a 
toleration  of  all  religions  and  worships,  Christian, 
Jewish  and  Ethnic  of  every  variety;  we  plead 
for  a  sympathy  between  all  religions,  for  the  re- 
ciprocal recognition  of  vital  truths  in  each  other's 
religion,  for  the  belief  that  the  complete  religious 
truth  is  only  to  be  heard  when  all  the  voices  of 
the   soul   blend   their  living   affirmations   in   the 

37 


38  Catholicity 

chorded  convictions  of  the  spirit,  for  the  further- 
ance of  that  unity  which  is  the  swelling  out  of 
intellectual  differences  into  the  full-breathed  har- 
mony of  spiritual  aspirations  and  intuitions. 

Our  age  makes  certain  the  unity  of  the  human 
race.  The  unity  of  the  human  race  carries  with 
it  the  unity  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  man.  The 
unity  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  man  holds  in  it 
the  unity  of  religion — religion  being  the  expres- 
sion of  the  spiritual  life  of  man,  as  the  one  human 
soul  fronts  the  mystery  of  the  one  Cosmos. 

The  puzzle  as  to  the  secret  of  the  curious  re- 
semblances between  religions  is  being  settled  now, 
once  for  all.  Plato  has  not  stolen  from  Moses, 
neither  has  Moses  cribbed  from  Plato;  Buddhism 
has  not  smuggled  into  the  story  of  Gautama  the 
tales  of  Jesus,  nor  has  Christianity  woven  into 
its  records  of  Jesus  the  experiences  of  Gautama; 
any  more  than  have  the  Aztecs  borrowed  their 
pyramids  from  Egypt,  or  the  American  Indians 
their  mediums  from  Greece,  or  our  modern  Col- 
lectivists  their  State  Socialism  from  Peru  and 
China. 

As  the  beaver  builds  its  dams,  wherever  found. 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        39 

after  one  architect's  plans,  so  man  houses  his  soul 
in  one  and  the  same  order  of  sacred  architecture, 
whenever  and  wherever  he  is  found  in  one  and 
the  same  stages  of  human  development ;  varying 
only  as  the  race  varies,  whether  in  India  or  Greece, 
Judea  or  Rome,  England  or  America.  This  that 
we  have  for  some  time  seen  concerning  the  various 
great  religions  of  civilization,  the  lamented  Brin- 
ton  has  demonstrated  as  between  them  all  and 
the  religions  of  primitive  peoples. 

The  differences  of  religion  are  the  differences 
between  the  pine  of  the  Adirondacks  and  the  pine 
of  Long  Island — differences  of  soil  and  climate. 
Or,  they  are  the  differences  between  the  year-old , 
pine  and  the  pine  of  a  hundred  years — differences 
in  the  stage  of  development. 

Given  a  similar  environment,  with  the  same  age, 
and  one  and  the  same  ideas  and  ideals,  intuitions 
and  aspirations,  hopes  and  beliefs,  laws  and  insti- 
tutions, symbols  and  cults  will  appear,  in  the  Hindu 
and  the  Egyptian,  the  Persian  and  the  Greek,  the 
Jew  and  the  Roman,  the  German  and  the  French- 
man. In  a  larger  sense  than  St.  Vincent  had 
in    mind,    the    test    of    Catholic    truth    is — that 


40  Catholicity 

which  has  been  held  always,  everywhere  and 
by  all. 

Literally  taken,  of  course,  there  is  no  such  truth. 
But  the  studies  of  our  age  are  making  clear  the 
existence  of  a  body  of  common  thoughts  and  con- 
victions underlying  all  religions  that  have  become 
ethical  and  spiritual,  which  fairly  well  fulfills 
this  test  of  truth.  This  truly  Catholic  faith  may 
be  read  within  the  differing  creeds  of  the  various 
religions ;  as  has  been  done  by  an  orthodox  pres- 
byter of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  whose 
learned  study  of  religious  archaeology  issues  in  a 
presentation  of  the  similarities  of  spiritual  reli- 
•gion,  which  groups  them  all  under  the  Articles  of 
the  Apostle's  Creed. 

If  such  a  body  of  beliefs  there  be,  common  to 
all  religions,  these  constitute  the  truly  fundamen- 
tal faiths  of  the  soul. 

Sacred  symbolism  yields  perhaps  the  most  sug- 
gestive interpretation  of  this  Catholic  Faith.  The 
symbols  of  religion  are  world-old  and  world-wide. 
Triangle  and  circle,  dove  and  eagle,  are  in  use 
everywhere.  Sacred  colors  have  one  and  the 
same    significance    in    Chaldea     and    India    and 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        41 

Greece,  in  Russia  and  Italy  and  America.  The 
priests  of  Karnac  have  told  Raphael  why  he  painted 
the  Madonna's  robe  the  color  of  the  sky.  The 
dramatization  of  religion,  which  we  call  sacramen- 
tal worship,  was  staged  by  the  shores  of  the  Ganges 
and  the  Nile,  as  well  as  by  the  banks  of  the  Thames 
and  the  Hudson.  The  mysteries  of  ancient  cults 
anticipated  the  Christian  Mass.  Baptism  is 
older  than  the  Church.  Our  Easter  Hymn  was 
sung,  in  a  rude  first-draft,  in  the  Syrian  groves 
sacred  to  Adonis. 

It  might  be  possible  to  take  a  bird's-eye  view 
of  this  large  field,  but  the  perspective  would  be  so 
vast  as  to  shrink  out  of  sight  all  those  details 
which  alone  create  a  realistic  impression  on  the 
mind.  Let  it  suffice  to  review  in  later  chapters 
a  number  of  characteristically  universal  symbols, 
and,  in  particular,  to  study  here  the  witness  of 
one  device  of  sacred  symbolism  to  the  oneness  of 
spiritual  religion.  And  let  that  symbol  be  the 
one  ordinarily  assumed  to  be  the  most  distinctive 
sign  of  the  religion  which  is  supposed  to  arrogate 
to  itself  an  exclusive  possession  of  divine  truth — 
the  cross. 


42  Catholicity 

The  Encyclopaedia  Britannica^  observes: 

It  is  curious  that  a  cruciform  device,  having  divers 
significations,  should  have  occupied  a  prominent 
position  among  so  many  sacred  and  mystic  figures 
and  symbols  connected  with  the  mythologies  of 
heathen  antiquity. 

This  fact  is  indeed  curious,  but  it  is  far  more 
than  curious — it  is  to  the  thoughtful  mind  pro- 
foundly significant. 

About  the  fact  there  can  be  no  manner  of  ques- 
tion. The  cross  is  found  in  India,  in  the  hands 
of  Brahma  and  Vishnu.  Krishna  is  represented, 
in  a  certain  painting,  with  six  hands,  three  of 
which  hold  the  cross.  Agni,  the  God  of  Fire,  has 
had  as  his  symbol,  from  immemorial  antiquity,  the 
cross.  The  magnificent  pagoda  of  Bindh-Madhu 
at  Benares,  was,  in  its  central  structure,  an 
immense  cross.  The  celebrated  cave-temple  at 
Elephant  a  is  nearly  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross. 
In  the  furthest  and  most  sacred  portion  of  the 
temple  is  the  Hindu  triad,  with  the  Crux  Ansata 
placed  in  one  arm.     There  is,  in  Central  India, 

^  Ninth  Edition.  The  Eleventh  Edition  gives  the  same  find- 
ings, but  in  the  words  of  a  different  author. 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        43 

a  region  which  is  now  desolate,  but  which  bears 
traces  of  an  extinct  civiUzation,  where  are  found 
monoHths  resembling  the  Cornish  crosses.  To 
this  day,  in  Northern  India,  the  cross  is  used  to 
mark  the  jars  of  sacred  water  taken  from  the 
Indus  and  the  Ganges. 

The  Buddhists  used  this  same  symbol,  habitu- 
ally, under  the  name  of  the  Swastika.  A  certain 
statue  of  the  seated  Buddha  shows  the  cross 
stamped  on  his  breast  and  on  his  hands.  Chinese 
Buddhism  had  the  Lao-Tseu,  or  cross,  as  one  of 
its  most  ancient  symbols.  It  is  painted  upon  the 
walls  of  their  pagodas,  and  "on  the  lanterns  used 
to  illuminate  the  most  sacred  recesses  of  their 
temples."  In  Japan  the  Fylfot  cross  was  the 
distinguishing  badge  of  the  ancient  sect  of  Taca- 
Japonicus,  or  first  reforming  Buddaka. 

Assyrian  relics  show  this  symbol  to  have  had  a 
general  use  in  the  sacred  art  of  Chaldea,  from  im- 
memorially  ancient  days.  The  custom  in  medise- 
val  Europe  of  prefixing  the  cross  to  signatures  and 
inscriptions  of  a  sacred  character  was  anticipated 
in  the  venerable  civilization  of  the  land  between 
the  rivers.     The  sculptures  from  Khorsabad,  and 


44  Catholicity 

the  ivories  from  Nimrod  show  well-nigh  every 
variety  in  the  form  of  the  cross.  The  cylinders 
and  seals  found  among  the  ruins  of  Babylonia 
bear  this  device  frequently.  Tiglath-Pileser  ap- 
pears, in  a  well-known  tablet,  now  in  the  British 
Museum,  with  the  cross  pattei  hanging  from  his 
neck. 

In  Persia  the  religious  use  of  the  cross  was  fami- 
liar. It  appears  on  an  ancient  tomb  in  Susa,  to 
which  homage  is  still  paid,  as  the  tomb  of  Daniel. 
On  some  of  the  ancient  monuments  near  Perse- 
polis,  ensigns  or  banners  in  the  form  of  the  cross 
are  still  found.  Mithraicism,  that  curious  Persian 
bastard,  which  so  powerfully  disputed  the  field 
with  the  young  Christianity,  knew  the  use  of  this 
sacred  sign  in  the  initiations  to  its  mysteries. 

Egypt  employed  this  sign,  constantly,  in  sacred 
art.  An  early  Christian  historian  tells  us  that, 
in  the  destruction  of  Serapium,  the  famous  temple 
of  Serapis,  in  Alexandris,  "there  were  found, 
sculptured  on  the  stones,  certain  characters  re- 
garded as  sacred,  resembling  the  sign  of  the 
cross."  Every  traveler  along  the  Nile  knows  the 
familiar  forms   of   this   device   upon   the   ruined 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        45 

temples.  The  Crux  Ansata,  the  cross  with  the 
circle  above  it,  is  the  inseparable  accompaniment 
of  the  chief  triad  of  the  Egyptian  deities,  Ra, 
Amon-Ra  and  Amon.  The  cross  was  worn  as 
an  amulet  by  the  people  of  the  Nile  valley.  On 
high  festivals,  the  priests  and  worshipers  ate  of  a 
cake  of  flour,  honey  and  milk  or  oil,  stamped  with 
the  cross. 

Judea  appears  to  have  known  the  use  of  this 
universal  symbol.  The  letter  Tau  was  sometimes 
written  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  Tradition  declared 
that  the  blood  of  the  Paschal  Lamb  was  sprinkled 
upon  the  lintels  and  door  posts  of  the  homes  of 
the  people,  on  the  eve  of  the  Passover  festival, 
in  the  form  of  a  Tau,  or  cross.  To  this  day,  this 
custom  is  said  to  be  observed  by  the  Jews  in  Corfu. 

According  to  the  Talmud,  Jarchi,  and  Maimodides, 
when  the  officiating  priest  sprinkled  the  blood  of  a 
victim  in  sacrifice  upon  the  consecrated  breads,  and 
hallowed  utensils,  it  was  in  the  form  of  a  cross;  and 
the  same  sign  was  traced  in  consecrated  oil  upon  the 
heads  of  the  priests  when  annointed.^ 

The  pole  on  which  Moses  was  said  to  have  lifted 
*  Seymour,  "The  Cross  in  Tradition,  History,  Art,"  p.  19. 


4^  Catholicity 

up  the  brazen  serpent,  as  a  means  of  curing  the 
plague- stricken  people  in  the  wilderness,  was  sup- 
posed, traditionally,  to  have  been  of  this  sacred 
shape — ''The  sign  of  salvation" — as  the  Wisdom 
of  Solomon  called  it.  A  feeble  remnant  of  the 
ancient  Samaritans,  at  Nablous,  still  sacrifices 
seven  lambs,  three  times  a  year,  spitted  on  a  cross. 

Everyone  knows  the  form  of  the  cross  in  the 
art  of  Greece.  Dr.  Schliemann  found  this  devi-ce 
on  terra  cotta  discs  in  the  ruins  of  Troy,  in  the 
fourth  or  last  stratum  of  his  excavations;  dating, 
as  he  supposes,  from  a  period  about  2500  years 
B.C.  In  the  Cypriote  collection  in  the  Metropo- 
litan Museum  of  Art,  you  may  look  upon  minia- 
ture human  figures  with  arms  extended  to  form 
this  sacred  sign,  which,  in  some  cases,  appears  also 
as  a  seal  upon  the  breast. 

The  prehistoric  lake-dwellers  of  Italy,  who  dis- 
appeared long  before  the  Etrurians — themselves 
preceding  Roman  civilization — made  use  of  this 
sacred  symbol.  The  mausoleum  of  the  great 
Lars  Porsenna,  whom  Macaulay  has  made  the 
schoolboys'  hero,  repeated  thrice  this  religious 
device.     The    staff    of    the    Roman    augers    was 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        47 

sometimes  surmounted  with  this  symbol;  and 
the  vestal  virgins  of  Rome  had  it  hung  around 
their  necks,  just  as  good  Catholics  hang  it  to-day. 

Mr.  Baring-Gould,  in  his  charming  ''Legend  of 
the  Cross,"  tells  us  how,  in  1850,  he  unearthed  a 
Gallo-Roman  palace  near  Pau,  in  the  South  of 
France,  in  which  he  found,  as  one  of  the  most  con- 
stantly repeated  devices  of  its  decoration,  the  cross. 

In  more  modern  times,  in  Europe,  we  find  the 
mighty  Thor  of  the  Scandinavians,  always  repre- 
sented with  his  huge  hammer  in  his  hand,  really 
holding  this  sacred  symbol.  The  hammer  was 
in  the  shape  of  the  cross. 

The  Druids  laid  out  their  forest  temples  in  the 
familiar  shape  of  our  great  cathedrals,  clearing  a 
cruciform  space  in  the  woods  for  their  worship. 
In  the  consecration  of  their  holy  oaks,  they  were 
made  cruciform,  by  having  their  branches  lopped 
into  the  desired  shape. 

On  our  own  western  continent,  we  find  the  same 
wide-spread  and  ancient  use  of  this  sacred  sym- 
bol. Prescott  tells  us  that,  when  the  Spaniards 
first  landed  in  Mexico  and  Central  America — 
"They  could  not  suppress  their  wonder,  as  they 


4^  Catholicity 

beheld  the  cross,  the  sacred  symbol  of  their  own 
faith,  raised  as  an  object  of  worship  in  the  tem- 
ples of  Ana-huac."  On  certain  high  festivals,  the 
Mexicans  made  crosses  out  of  Indian  corn  mingled 
with  the  blood  of  their  sacrificial  victim.  These 
were  first  worshiped  and  afterwards  broken  and 
distributed  among  the  worshipers,  who  ate  them 
as  a  symbol  of  union  and  brotherhood.  Tau 
crosses  of  metal  were  found  in  common  use,  as 
amulets.  White  marble  crosses  were  discovered  on 
the  Island  of  Sant  Ulloa.  The  Incas  reverenced 
a  cross,  made  out  of  a  simple  piece  of  jasper, 
which  had  been  bequeathed  to  them  by  an  earlier 
people.  Upon  the  side  of  one  of  the  little  hills 
which  skirt  Pisca  Bay  is  an  immense  cross,  about 
one  hundred  feet  high,  formed  of  stone,  inlaid 
in  the  rock.  According  to  the  native  priests,  with 
the  readiness  of  all  good  priests  to  interpret  sym- 
bolism usefully,  this  was  miraculously  made  by 
an  angel  to  warn  Pizarro  from  his  wicked  tyranny. 
It  is  much  to  be  feared  that  the  angel's  warning 
did  not  sink  deep  enough  into  Pizzaro's  heart. 
In  Paraguay,  an  early  traveler  saw — "Not  only 
a  cross  marked  on  the  foreheads  of  the  Abipones, 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        49 

but,  likewise,  black  crosses  woven  in  the  red  woolen 
garments  of  many."  As  he  notes — "A  surprising 
circumstance  that  they  did  this  before  they  were 
acquainted  with  the  religion  of  Christ,  when  the 
signification  and  merits  of  the  cross  were  unknown 
to  them."  At  the  extreme  southerly  termination 
of  the  continent,  the  Patagonians  tat  toed  this 
holy  sign  upon  their  foreheads,  as  a  custom  trans- 
mitted from  their  forefathers.  Cave- temples  of  a 
cruciform  shape  are  not  lacking  in  South  America, 
as  in  India.  One  at  Mitla,  the  city  of  the  moon, 
was  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  123  feet  in  length 
and  25  feet  in  breadth.  Upon  the  walls,  the 
figure  of  a  perfect  maltese  cross  is  carved. 

This  use  of  the  cross  in  South  A^nerica  dates 
far  back  of  the  period  of  the  Spanish  Discovery — 
how  far  no  one  can  tell.  The  prehistoric  peoples 
who  preceded  the  races  found  on  the  soil  by  the 
Spaniards  used  this  ancient  symbol,  as  their  ruins 
amply  testify.  Palenque  is  supposed  to  have  been 
founded  in  the  ninth  century  before  the  Christian 
era.  One  of  the  principal  buildings  in  that  city 
is  a  palace  or  temple,  280  feet  long  by  180  feet  in 
width  and  40  feet  in  height.     At  the  back  of  one 


50  Catholicity 

of  its  altars,  sculptured  on  a  slab  of  gypsum,  is 
a  cross  ten  feet  high.  In  Yucatan,  the  first 
Roman  missionaries  wisely  tried  to  preserve  some 
of  the  hymns  of  the  natives,  embodying  their 
ancient  tradition.  A  translation,  supposed  to 
be  literal,  of  one  of  the  hymns  reads  thus : 

At  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  age  of  the  world, 
While  the  cities  of  Itza  and  Tancah  still  flourish, 
The  sign  of  the  Lord  of  the  sky  will  appear, 
The  Light  of  the  Dawn  will  illumiiie  the  land, 
And  the  cross  will  be  seen  by  the  nations  of  men. 
A  father  to  you  will  he  be,  Itzalanos. 
A  brother  to  you,  ye  nations  of  Tancah. 
Receive  well  the  bearded  guests  who  are  coming, 
Bringing  the  sign  of  the  Lord  from  the  daybreak. 
Of  the  Lor4  of  the  sky,  so  clement  yet  powerful. 

Our  North  American  continent  witnesses  the 
same  widespread  and  ancient  use  of  this  sacred 
symbol.  In  the  Mississippi  Valley,  rich  in  Indian 
remains,  curiously  shaped  pieces  of  metal,  at 
first  taken  for  money,  but  now  supposed  to  be 
ornaments  or  medals,  have  been  discovered  marked 
with  the  Crux  Ansata.  Near  Natchez  a  medal 
was  dug  up,  in  1844,  bearing  a  cross.  One  of  the 
most  numerous  of  the  later  tribes  of  our  Indians, 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        5i 

in  their  sacrifices  for  rain,  placed  their  offerings 
upon  the  figure  of  a  cross.  This  use  of  the  cross 
on  our  continent  far  antedates  the  period  of  the 
red  Indian.  It  is  well  known  that  our  Indians 
were  preceded  by  an  earlier  race,  the  memory  of 
which  had  perished  from  the  land  when  the  first 
white  man  trod  our  shores.  These  predecessors 
of  the  Indians  had  achieved  a  more  advanced 
civilization  than  that  of  their  successors.  The 
indications  of  this  are  in  the  curious  mounds  which 
still  preserve  the  only  relics  of  this  forgotten  people. 
These  mound-builders  evidently  held  the  cross 
in  homage  as  a  religious  symbol.  This  we  know 
from  the  fact  that  some  of  the  relics  unearthed 
from  their  mounds  are  stamped  with  this  device. 
Many  of  the  mounds  themselves  are  of  a  cruciform 
shape.  One  such  is  found  near  Marietta,  Ohio, 
and  another  at  Tarleton,  Ohio — the  latter  in 
the  form  of  a  Greek  cross.  It  is  supposed  that 
these  cruciform  mounds  are  the  debris  of  sacred 
structures. 

"That  not  a  link  may  be  wanting  in  the  chain 
which  binds  all  nations,  Jew,  Gentile  and  Pagan, 
even  the  islands  between  the  western  and  eastern 


52  Catholicity 

continents  are  hallowed  by  the  shadow  of  the 
cross."  The  natives  of  the  Gambler  Islands  tat- 
tooed themselves  with  this  emblem.  The  dis- 
coverers of  the  Mulgrave  Islands  were  received  by 
natives  adorned  with  necklaces,  from  which  crosses 
were  suspended.  In  the  British  Museum  there 
are  two  colossal  statues  from  Easter  Island,  bear- 
ing the  Tau  upon  their  backs. 

Thus  [as  one  student  of  the  history  of  the  cross 
writes]  we  have  completed  the  circuit  of  the  globe, 
and  find  this  holy  symbol,  with  a  sacred  signification, 
in  ages  far  apart,  and  among  nations  widel}^  separated, 
and,  for  the  most  part,  utterly  ignorant  of  each  other's 
existence. 

As  far  as  we  can  see,  the  cross  thus  appears  to 
have  been  a  world-old,  world-wide  sacred  symbol. 

Were  there  no  light  to  be  shed  on  this  singular 
fact  of  a  world-old,  world-wide  use  of  the  sacred 
symbol  which  we  have  supposed  peculiar  to  Chris- 
tianity, the  fact  itself  would  rebuke  any  sense  of 
exclusiveness  in  its  sacred  symbolism,  or  in  the 
religious  life  which  it  expresses;  and  should  bind 
Christians  into  a  fellowship  of  feeling  with  all, 
of  every  name  and  race  and  color  and  creed,  who 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        53 

have  thus,  through  this  form  of  art,  felt  after  God, 
"If  haply  they  might  find  Him." 

How  did  this  sacred  symbol  come  into  use? 
Its  origin  is  lost  in  the  midst  of  antiquity.  Yet 
we  can  surmise,  with  some  probability,  the  secret 
of  the  forge  in  which  it  was  fashioned.  The 
oldest  historical  use  of  this  symbol  now  known 
to  us  is  probably  found  in  the  worship  of  the  Hindu 
Agni,  the  God  of  Fire.  The  discovery  of  the  use 
of  fire  and  of  the  secret  of  making  it,  as  needed, 
was  one  of  the  first  steps  in  civilization.  It 
secured  man  against  the  inclemency  of  the  weather, 
and  lifted  him  above  the  savagery  of  eating  raw 
food,  while  it  opened  to  him  the  possibilities  of  all 
mechanical  improvements,  and  of  the  arts  which 
rest  upon  them.  It  was  natural  that  so  fierce  a 
power,  turning  into  such  a  beneficent  friend, 
should  receive  the  homage  of  primitive  man. 
Perhaps  the  first  rude  method  of  striking  a  fire 
was  that  which  is  still  used  in  some  portions  of 
the  East;  in  which,  by  taking  two  pieces  of  wood 
and  arranging  them  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and 
then  whirling  them  rapidly  together,  the  desired 
fire    is    obtained,    through    the    violent    friction 


54  Catholicity 

produced.  It  is  this  very  simple  piece  of  mechan- 
ism for  the  production  of  fire  which  gives  the  form 
of  the  symbol  that  is  still  marked  on  the  foreheads 
of  the  young  Buddhists  and  Brahmins. 

When  our  American  Creeks,  at  their  festival 
of  the  four  winds,  formed  a  cross  out  of  four  logs, 
the  ends  of  which  extended  toward  the  cardinal 
points  of  the  compass,  they  gave  a  clew  to  one 
natural  source  of  this  symbolism,  in  the  mystery 
of  nature's  order. 

The  cross  is  a  pattern  which  would  naturally 
have  suggested  itself  to  primitive  man  as  one  of 
the  simplest  and  most  necessary  forms  in  nature. 
He  found  it  everywhere  produced  in  the  combina- 
tions of  creation.  He  noted  it  in  the  flowers  of 
the  field;  in  which  it  is  so  common  as  to  give  a 
name  to  an  order,  now  known  as  the  Cruciferce, 
of  which  there  are  about  eight  hundred  species 
recognized  by  us.  In  all  manner  of  exquisite 
variations,  he  beheld  this  sign  in  the  crystals  of 
the  earth.  The  oldest  of  sciences  is  astronomy; 
and  a  study  of  the  skies  suggested  this  from — as 
ran  the  ancient  Mexican  hymn,  "the  sign  of  the 
Lord  of  the  sky."     The  double  star  fashions  it. 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross         55 

The  lines  of  the  equinoctial  circle,  cutting  the 
Zodiac,  form  it.  The  daily  meridian,  intersect- 
ing the  equator,  describes  it.  The  most  ancient 
Chaldean  watchers  of  the  sky  would  have  dis- 
cerned that  which  Dante  saw,  ages  after  them, 
in  noting  the  heavenly  orbs: 

Those  rays  described  the  venerable  sign 
That  quadrants  joining  in  a  circle  make. 

Bisect  a  circle  twice,  and  you  have  this  venerable 
sign  that  "quadrants  joining  in  a  circle  make." 

The  cross  is  everywhere  in  nature,  to  the  eye 
of  the  thoughtful  man. 

So  omnipresent  and  inevitable  a  form  must,  in 
the  mind  of  the  thoughtful  man,  have  assumed  a 
mystic  significance.  It  must  have  seemed  to  him 
to  sign  something  secret  and  sacred.  To  divine 
this  mystic  significance  we  must  not  merely  grope 
among  the  historic  origins  of  the  symbol,  in  the 
lore  of  the  archaeologist — we  must  mount  into 
its  meaning  in  the  minds  of  the  seers  and  saints 
of  every  people.  'Tt  is  the  flower,  not  the  root, 
which  reveals  the  life.  By  their  fruits  ye  shall 
know  them."     The  form  through  which  the  sav- 


5^  Catholicity 

ing  fire  revealed  itself  thus  appeared  a  mani- 
festation of  the  God  of  Light:  The  design  which 
nature  fashioned  on  every  hand,  in  her  loveliest 
works,  the  flowers,  suggested  itself  as  a  sign  of 
creative  life.  The  harmonious  adjustment  of  op- 
posing forces  which  in  the  heavens  draws  this 
figure,  in  all  the  great  combinations  of  the  skies, 
taught  men  to  find  in  the  cross  the  sign  of  the 
order  of  the  universe. 

The  mystery-loving  imagination  of  man  could 
not  then  have  waited  for  a  modern  gnostic  to  thus 
interpret  this  strange  symbol: 

It  is  traced  by  ''Our  Lord  the  Sun"  on  the  plane  of 
the  heavens;  it  is  represented  by  the  magnetic  and 
diamagnetic  forces  of  the  earth;  it  is  seen  in  the  ice- 
crystal  and  in  the  snowfiake;  the  human  form  itself 
is  modeled  upon  its  pattern,  and  all  nature  bears 
throughout  her  manifold  spheres  the  impress  of  this 
sign,  at  once  the  prophesy  and  the  instrimient  of  her 
redemption. 

In  some  such  way  as  this,  pondering  over  the 
everyivhere-present  secret  of  nature,  the  cross 
came,  in  the  mind  of  man,  to  assume  the  charac- 
ter of  a  sacred  symbol,  a  sacramental  sign  of  Life. 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross         57 

In  the  Roman  armies,  grave  offences  were  often 
punished  by  decimation.  When  the  lots  were 
drawn,  the  names  of  the  soldiers  on  the  roll  were 
marked;  those  who  were  fated  to  death  having 
the  Greek  Theta  drawn  against  their  names,  while 
those  who  were  to  live  having  placed  by  their 
names  the  oldest  and  simplest  form  of  the  cross. 
The  Mexicans  called  their  cross  ''the  Tree  of  Life." 

Life  itself  holds  within  itself  an  inner  mystery, 
a  secret  of  transformation,  in  which,  out  of  the 
lower,  arises  a  higher  being,  and  through  death 
comes  fuller  life. 

The  cross  thus  became  the  symbol  of  life  eternal, 
rising  out  of  life  temporal;  the  sign  of  man's 
victory  over  physical  death,  the  cypher  in  which 
was  guarded,  for  the  worthy,  the  doctrine  of 
immortality. 

Life  in  nature,  as  primitive  man  saw,  is  never 
overcome  of  death.  The  Sun,  sinking  at  the  close 
of  day  beneath  the  waters  of  the  western  sea, 
seemed  to  him  to  be  swallowed  up  by  the  monster 
of  the  deep.  The  bright  God  of  Day  appeared 
to  die.  Darkness  overcame  the  light.  But  lo! 
with  the  morning,  the  bright  God  reappeared  in 


58  Catholicity 

the  East.  He  had  conquered  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. He  had  passed  through  the  underworld 
of  shadows.  He  had  come  to  Hfe  again,  in  his 
joyful  resurrection. 

The  joyous  spring  drooped  and  died.  The  fierce 
heats  of  summer  consumed  his  fresh  life.  He 
faded,  as  the  autumn  leaves  withered  and  fell  to 
the  ground.  He  perished  at  the  touch  of  frost, 
and  was  buried  in  the  snowy  shroud  of  winter. 
Through  long  months  he  tarried  in  the  cold  grave 
of  nature.  But  lo!  he  breaks  the  tomb  of  winter; 
he  comes  forth  upon  the  earth,  ''in  verdure 
clad";  and  all  the  earth  smiles  at  his  presence, 
while  the  fields  blush  into  beauty  at  his  touch 
of  love. 

These  are  the  oldest  myths  in  which  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  child-man  read  the  parable  of  his 
own  destiny.  Life  then  was  imperishable.  In 
that  it  is,  it  will  be.  It  must  round  its  full  cycle, 
through  every  mood  and  tense  of  being.  Death 
is  only  an  episode  of  life.  It  is  the  "finis"  which 
closes  one  chapter  in  the  tale  of  being. 

The  sign  of  life  was  thus  seen  to  be  the  sign  of 
immortality.     It  held  the  secret  of  the  future. 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        59 

Our  forefathers,  therefore,  far  back  in  the  mist}^ 
distances  of  antiquity,  used  the  cross,  the  sign  of 
life,  to  betoken  their  faith  that  Hfe  would  live  for 
evermore.  The  Rosetta  stone,  which  gave  our 
scholars  the  clue  to  the  interpretation  of  the 
Egyptian  hieroglyphs,  employed  the  figure  of  the 
cross  with  the  handle  as  the  picture-equivalent 
of  the  Greek  word  for  everlasting  life.  On  the 
Egyptian  tombs  we  may  still  see  the  delineation 
of  Horus,  the  Saviour-God,  raising  the  dead  to 
life,  by  touching  the  mummy  with  a  cross — most 
commonly  the  Crux  Ansata.  The  ancient  in- 
habitants of  Mexico  and  Central  America  built 
their  sepulchres  cruciform.  As  already  indicated, 
in  Italy,  before  the  Romans  occupied  the  land, 
there  was  an  earlier  people,  highly  civilized  in  some 
respects,  the  Etruscans;  before  whom,  again, 
there  was  a  still  more  primitive  race,  of  whom  we 
know  scarcely  anything.  The  remains  of  these  pre- 
historic people  lie  buried  in  the  debris  of  their 
villages  and  towns,  which  now  form  a  part  of  the 
soil  of  the  land.  How  remote  this  civilization 
we  may  judge  from  the  fact  that,  in  some  places, 
we  have  to  dig  down  twenty-one  feet  to  come  upon 


6o  Catholicity 

the  traces  of  this  forgotten  folk.  When  we  have 
unearthed  the  fragmentary  traces  of  this  remote 
race,  we  discover  that  they  laid  their  dead  away 
in  mother  earth  beneath  the  guardianship  of 
the  sacred  sign  of  the  cross;  expressing  thus 
their  trust  that  life  would  rise  again  out  of  the 
grave. 

When,  then,  we  go,  some  bright  spring  morning, 
to  the  city  of  the  dead,  where  the  mortal  remains 
of  our  dear  ones  rest,  and  observe,  on  every  hand, 
graven  in  the  fair  marble,  or  lifting  itself  in  iron 
above  the  grassy  mound,  the  sacred  sign  of  the 
cross,  we  may  ponder  the  impressive  fact,  that  as 
we  have  done,  so  our  fathers  have  done,  through 
centuries  and  millenniums  before  us :  placing  their 
dead  in  God's  acre,  '4n  hope  of  eternal  life," 
whose  sacramental  symbol  was  to  them,  as  to  us, 
the  sign  of  the  cross. 

The  cross  thus  became  the  symbol  of  the  spirit- 
ual life,  rising  out  of  life  material;  the  sacred 
sign  of  the  higher  life  triumphing  over  the  lower 
life  of  man;  the  cypher  in  which  was  preserved 
the  secret  of  the  disciplining  pains  and  sorrows  of 
our  earthly  life.     As  far  back  as  we  can  trace  his 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        6i 

story,  man  knew  the  painful  experience  which 
we  know  to-day — the  higher  Hfe  strugghng  to  free 
itself  from  the  chains  of  the  lower  nature,  the 
spirit  striving  with  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the 
devil, — the  evolution  of  the  soul.  Far  back  in  his 
story,  man  seems  to  have  divined  the  secret  of 
salvation — the  renunciation  of  the  lower  life  to 
gain  the  liberty  of  the  higher  life;  the  mortifica- 
tion of  the  material  appetites  and  passions,  that 
the  spirit  might  rise  from  this  death;  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  old  man,  which  was  of  the  earth,  that 
the  new  man  from  heaven  might  reign  within. 
Ages  ago  man  thus  learned  the  innermost  secret 
of  peace  amid  the  sufferings  and  trial  of  life;  as 
he  found  these  pangs  the  means  through  which 
the  one  great  evolution  was  effected,  and  from  the 
fires  of  suffering  the  Son  of  man  rose  into  the  Son 
of  God.  And  all  this  deepest  wisdom  of  the  soul 
he  bodied  in  the  sacred  sign  of  the  cross,  the  sym- 
bol of  life  purifying  itself  through  pain,  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  resurrection  of  the  spirit  from  the 
death  of  the  material  man. 

Thus  we  find  in  the  earliest  known  religions, 
the  use  of  the  cross  in  initiating  candidates  into 


62  Catholicity 

the  higher  life.  In  India,  the  man  who  sought  the 
spiritual  life  was  baptized  in  the  waters  of  the 
sacred  river.  He  was  plunged  into  the  stream, 
confessing  his  sins,  as  thus  signing  his  cleansing 
of  himself  from  the  defilements  of  the  past;  and 
then,  as  he  came  forth,  he  was  clothed  with  a 
white  robe,  and  the  sign  of  the  cross  was  drawn 
upon  his  forehead,  in  token  of  the  secret  wherein 
he  should  conquer.  In  the  Sacred  Mysteries  of 
different  lands  the  same  use  of  the  cross  was  made. 
He  who  through  long  probation  had  fought  a  good 
battle  and  shown  himself  a  worthy  soldier  of  the 
God  of  Light  and  Purity,  was  received  into  the 
inner  ranks  of  the  sacramental  host  of  the  elect 
and  signed  with  the  cross.  The  noble  hymn 
of  Dean  Alford  might,  with  slight  verbal  changes, 
have  been  used  in  those  pagan  baptisms,  with  one 
and  the  same  spiritual  meaning,  more  or  less  clearly 
conceived;  as,  looking  up  to  his  Teacher  and 
Master,  the  newly  baptized  was  taught. 

In  token  that  thou  too  shalt  tread 

The  path  he  travel'd  by, 
Endure  the  cross,  despise  the  shame, 

And  sit  thee  down  on  high; 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        ^3 

Thus  outwardly  and  visibly 

We  seal  thee  for  his  own; 
And  may  the  brow  that  wears  his  cross 

Hereafter  share  his  crown ! 

The  way  of  holiness  was  to  the  dark-skinned 
Easterners,  as  to  us,  the  way  of  the  cross.  There 
was  to  be  a  cross  lifted  in  their  hearts,  as  in  ours, 
on  which  the  sacrifice  of  all  the  evil  in  their  natures 
was  to  be  made;  on  which  they  were  to  offer  up 
themselves  as  living  sacrifices,  acceptable  unto 
God.  To  make  it  perfectly  sure  that  such  was 
indeed  the  meaning  of  this  ancient  pagan  use  of 
the  cross,  we  find,  among  various  peoples,  our 
familiar  emblem  of  the  cross  rising  out  of  the  heart 
— the  hieroglyph  of  goodness. 

When  Dante  was  treading  the  upper  skies, 
amid  the  glories  of  Paradise,  he  saw,  in  the  fifth 
heaven,  the  spirits  of  the  martyrs  who  died  fight- 
ing for  the  true  faith;  the  bright  constellation 
of  their  souls  forming  a  mystic  cross,  from  which 
there  came  the  music  which  he  thus  interpreted: 

And  as  a  lute  and  harp,  accordant  strung 

With  many  strings,  a  dulcet  tinkling  make 

To  him  b}^  whom  the  notes  are  not  distinguished, 


64  Catholicity 

-     So  from  the  lights  that  there  to  me  appeared 
Upgathered  through  the  cross  a  melody, 
Which  rapt  me,  not  distinguishing  the  hymn. 

Well  was  I  'ware  it  was  of  lofty  laud, 

Because  there  came  to  me,  "Arise  and  Conquer!" 


The  cross  thus  became  the  symbol  of  the  life 
of  the  elect  ones  of  earth,  who  rise  out  of  the  mass 
of  men ;  the  sacred  sign  of  the  saviours  of  mankind ; 
the  cypher  in  which  was  written  the  secret  of  the 
life  going  forth  from  them  in  salvation  for  the 
sons  of  earth.  The  truth  which  the  ordinary 
man  found,  as  he  climbed  by  the  way  of  the  cross 
toward  the  stars,  was  lived  fully  in  the  immortals 
of  earth.  The  men  who  lifted  their  fellows  to  the 
higher  life  reached  down  arms  of  help  from  a  cross. 
The  saviour  of  a  race  was  always  "despised  and 
rejected,"  a  "man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with 
grief."  The  throne  of  saving  love  in  every  land 
was  an  altar.  One  of  the  sacred  volumes  of  China, 
the  Y-King,  speaking  of  the  Holy  One,  declared: 
"He  alone  can  offer  up  to  the  Lord  a  sacrifice 
worthy  of  him."  That  sacrifice,  as  an  ancient 
interpreter  wrote,  was  no  other  than  this:  "The 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        65 

common  people  sacrifice  their  lives  to  gain  bread ; 
the  philosophers  to  gain  reputation;  the  nobility 
to  perpetuate  their  families.  The  Holy  One  does 
not  seek  himself,  but  the  good  of  others.  He  dies 
to  save  the  world." 

He  dies  to  save  the  world !  He  cannot  save  the 
world  except  by  dying.  The  world  makes  sure 
that  he  shall  save  it,  by  putting  him  to  death.  Is 
not  this  the  story  of  the  man  sent  from  God  to 
Greece?  In  the  "Crito,"  Socrates  represents  the 
Laws,  personified,  as  rebuking  him  for  the  thought 
of  trying  to  avoid  death  by  flight.  He  had  learned 
the  secret  of  sacrifice,  as  the  law  under  which  alone 
his  saving  work  could  be  perfected.  The  world 
would  have  dealt  gently  with  the  son  of  the  king 
of  Kapilavastu,  the  heir  of  his  wealth  and  power. 
Shut  off  from  every  sight  and  sound  of  pain,  im- 
prisoned behind  walls  of  roses,  chained  in  garlands 
of  flowers,  his  youthful  life  passed  in  an  unending 
round  of  pleasure.  The  great  soul,  struggling  to 
the  birth,  cast  off  at  length  the  bondage  of  the 
outer  life  of  joy;  and,  escaping  from  the  palace, 
the  prince  tore  from  him  his  royal  robes  and  fled 
to  the  jungle — to  agonize  in  spirit  with  the  great 


66  Catholicity 

problems  of  life,  to  meet  the  fierce  onsets  of  temp- 
tation, to  gain  at  last  the  perfect  victory  of 
peace,  and  to  come  forth  to  India  as  its  teacher 
and  saviour,  through  the  sacrifice  which  he  had 
offered  unto  Goodness.  According  to  tradition, 
the  Buddha  is  reported  as  saying:  "  Let  all  the  sins 
that  were  committed  in  this  world  fall  on  me, 
that  the  world  may  be  delivered."  Thus,  in  the 
spirit,  the  gentle  Gautama  was  truly  crucified 
for  his  people.  Hebrew  story  gives  an  infinitely 
pathetic  picture  of  the  great  emancipator's  self- 
sacrificingness : 

And  it  came  to  pass  on  the  morrow,  that  Moses 
said  unto  the  people,  "Ye  have  sinned  a  great  sin; 
and  now  I  will  go  up  unto  Jehovah:  peradventure 
I  shall  make  an  atonement  for  your  sin."  And  Moses 
returned  unto  the  Lord,  and  said,  "Oh,  this  people 
have  sinned  a  great  sin,  and  have  made  them  gods 
of  gold:  yet  now,  if  thou  wilt  forgive  their  sin  .  .  .  : 
and  if  not,  blot  me,  I  pray  thee,  out  of  thy  book  which 
thou  hast  written." 

It  need  not,  then,  surprise  us  that,  with  this  fact 
of  the  inner  life  of  the  great  souls  of  earth  before 
them,  as  the  spiritual  reality  signed  in  the  sacred 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        67 

symbol  of  nature,  men  of  all  lands  have  fashioned 
the  form  of  a  crucified  saviour.  As  wrote  one  of 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  Justin  Martyr,  who 
had  been  a  student  of  the  philosophers  of  Greece: 

There  exists  not  a  people,  whether  Greek  or  barba- 
rian, or  any  other  race  of  men,  by  whatsoever  appel- 
lation or  manners  they  may  be  disguised,  however 
ignorant  of  arts  or  agriculture,  whether  they  dwell 
in  tents  or  wander  about  in  crowded  wagons,  among 
whom  prayers  are  not  offered  up,  in  the  name  of  a 
crucified  Saviour,  to  the  father  and  creator  of  all 
things. 

The  bright  God  of  Light,  Apollo,  appears  to  have 
been  at  times  represented  by  the  Greeks  as  cruci- 
fied. In  the  familiar  myth  Prometheus,  the  friend 
and  helper  of  man,  who  had  brought  down  the  life- 
giving  fire  from  the  skies,  was  crucified  on  the 
Caucasus;  his  arms  outstretched  and  nailed  upon 
the  rock.  Krishna  was  thus  pictured  by  the  Hin- 
dus as  crucified,  in  forms  that  we  still  may  study 
in  the  art  of  Ir^dia.  In  our  own  South  America, 
the  Spanish  visitors  were  surprised  to  find  in  the 
temples  a  cross,  and  upon  it  a  bleeding  man,  with 
a  face  bright  like  that  of  the  sun.     The  crucifix 


68  Catholicity 

itself  is  to  be  found  among  the  relics  of  these 
ancient  religions;  a  sacred  sign  of  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Teacher  and  Friend  and  Saviour,  up  to 
whom,  under  different  names,  the  people  looked 
as  the  Revealer  of  God. 

A  shallow  scepticism  finds  in  this  strange  fact 
that  which  brings  the  flippant  sneer  to  its  lips. 
Books  which  illustrate  the  venerable  adage  "a 
little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,"  write  with 
an  air  of  profundity  about  the  Sixteen  Crucified 
Saviours  of  the  World;  as  though  there  were  no 
profound  spiritual  reality  back  of  this  universal 
symbolism ;  as  though  the  common  belief  of  differ- 
ent  races  that  men  are  redeemed  from  evil  by  sa- 
viours who  have  undergone  a  real  crucifixion,  in 
the  flesh  or  in  the  spirit,  was  but  a  superstitious 
dream  of  human  fancy.  The  sciolists  of  religion 
tell  us  that  these  Sixteen  Crucified  Saviours  of 
mankind  all  resolve  themselves  at  length  into  one 
world-old  Sun  Myth.  We  may  grant  at  once  the 
fact,  already  pointed  out,  that  this  sacred  symbol 
was  drawn  primarily  from  nature  itself;  that  it 
was  found  as  the  mystic  sign,  in  the  skies,  of  the 
secret  through  which  life  ruled  in  the  universe  and 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        69 

led  creation  ever  onward  and  upward;  but,  then, 
we  may  deny  the  conclusion  drawn  from  this  fact. 
In  the  story  of  the  bright  God  of  Day,  men  did 
find  the  drapery  of  imagination  wherewith  to 
clothe  the  mysterious  secret  of  the  soul,  the  strange 
spiritual  reality  that  lived  in  the  experience  of 
the  great  historic  Teachers  and  Redeemers  of 
earth — a  reality  that  is  as  historic  as  history. 
That  reality  fitly  draped  itself  in  the  symbolism 
of  nature,  and  thus  became  infinitely  more  im- 
pressive, as  leading  back  this  mystic  secret  of  man 
into  the  mystery  of  the  universal  order.  Nature 
itself  is  a  physical  parable  of  spiritual  reality ;  the 
hieroglyph  in  matter  of  the  secret  of  spirit;  a 
picture-story  of  the  life  of  the  Son  of  God.  In  a 
universe  where  there  is  a  real  unity  we  ought  to 
expect  that  the  physical  order  should  give,  in 
terms  of  physics,  the  secret  of  the  spiritual  order; 
that  we  should  find  in  the  heavens  the  symbol  of 
what  is  to  come  forth  in  man,  the  flower  of  nature 
herself.  The  law  of  correspondence  insures  that 
we  shall  find  the  story  of  the  soul  written  in  picture 
language  in  the  open  pages  of  nature ;  that  we  shall 
hear,  in  the  whispers  of  the  skies,  the  rehearsings 


70  Catholicity 

of  the  symphony  of  the  spirit.  The  heavens  are 
the  prophetic  chroniclers  of  the  great  sons  of  God, 
and  when  these  come  upon  earth  they  Hve  the 
Hfe  of  the  cross  which  was  seen  in  the  skies.  The 
secret  of  the  soul  must  needs  be  written  in 
the  cosmos. 

The  cross  thus  became  the  symbol  of  the  divine 
life  rising  through  the  human  life ;  the  sacred  sign 
of  the  innermost  secret  in  the  Infinite  and  Eternal 
Being;  the  cypher  in  which  was  cherished  the 
mystery  that  it  is  through  sacrifice  that  God  him- 
self is  redeeming  and  regenerating  man.  Nature 
is  a  cosmic  symbol  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal 
Spirit.  The  secret  which  is  pictured  in  the  skies, 
which  is  traced  chemically  in  the  crystals,  which 
blooms  in  the  flowers,  which  comes  forth  as  a 
water-mark  through  every  fiber  of  nature,  which 
is  shrined  in  the  soul  of  man,  is  a  secret  of  the 
Divine  Being  himself.  It  holds  a  mystic  truth 
of  the  essential  nature  of  God.  The  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Life  is  ever  giving  itself  forth  into  lower 
lives.  The  Generator  of  life  is  the  Regenerator  of 
life — the  power  which  is  always  working  through 
creation  to  lift  the  lower  forms  of  being  higher, 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        7i 

the  will  which  through  man  is  pulsing  the  energy 
that  redeems  him  from  all  evil,  the  Being  who 
is  ever  offering  himself  in  every  sacrifice  which 
brings  salvation  unto  man.  This  sacrifice  going 
on  in  the  Divine  Being  is  the  reality  of  which  all 
other  sacrifices  are  but  an  expression,  from  which 
all  other  lower  sacrifices  draw  their  inspiration. 
For  we  know  that  the  whole  creation  groaneth 
and  travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now.'*  This 
travail  of  creation  is  none  other  than  the  travail 
of  God.  The  Divine  Motherhood  is  bringing  to 
the  birth  the  sons  of  God.  She  "shall  see  of  the 
travail  of  her  soul  and  be  satisfied." 

Layard  tells  us  that  when  a  cross  stands  before 
a  name  in  Assyrian  records  it  denotes  a  divine 
personage.  In  one  of  the  Egyptian  representations 
of  Amon,  the  God  of  Life,  a  cross  glitters  on  his 
breast.  The  Hindu  Krishna  was  none  other  than 
"the  Divine  Vichnu  himself";  "He  who  is  with- 
6nt  beginning,  middle  or  end,"  "being  moved  to 
relieve  the  earth  of  her  load,"  and  incarnating 
himself  to  perform  this  sacrificial  oblation.  This 
is  the  meaning,  probably,  of  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable representations  in  the  religious  art  of 


72  Catholicity 

antiquity,  a  Hindu  picture  of  what  Dr.  Lundy  calls 
"a  crucifixion  in  space" — a  divine  man  poised  in 
the  air,  with  outspread  arms,  as  though  upon  a 
cross,  the  nail-marks  in  his  hands  and  feet,  while 
the  rays  of  light  from  the  unseen  sun  surround 
him  with  glory.  It  was  the  dream  in  pagan  art 
of  the  mystery  on  which  Plato  was  musing,  when 
he  spoke  of  the  perfect  circle,  which  was  the  sym- 
bol of  God,  as  being  "decussated  in  the  form  of 
the  letter  X" — that  is,  signed  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross  within.  It  was  the  vision  beheld  by  the 
great  Unknown  of  Israel — the  form  of  the  Right- 
eous Suffering  Servant  of  Jehovah.  It  was  the 
open  sight  of  the  Christian  seer;  "I  beheld,  and 
lo,  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  stood  a  lamb,  as 
it  had  been  slain." 

Concerning  this  ineffable  mystery,  all  human 
speech  is  hushed  in  awe;  and  we  must  fain  be 
content  in  the  silence  which  falls  upon  our  souls 
when  we  behold,  as  the  secret  of  creation,  the 
Infinite  and  Eternal  Being,  in  whose  life  rise  the 
springs  of  all  sacrifice. 

The  cross  was  thus  the  ancient  symbol  of  life, 
the  sacred  sign  of  the  fourfold  secret  of  being: 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        73 

life  immortal,  rising  out  of  life  mortal ;  life  spirit- 
ual, rising  out  of  life  material;  life  giving  itself, 
in  the  supreme  sons  of  earth,  for  the  redemption 
of  men,  life  flowing  forth  from  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Being,  as  the  exhaustless  spring  of  all 
sacrifice.  The  cross  was  the  cypher  in  which  was 
guarded,  for  prepared  souls,  through  the  ages 
when  the  mass  of  men  were  not  felt  to  be  ready 
for  these  mysteries,  the  doctrines  of  immortality, 
of  regeneration,  of  redemption,  of  God's  eternal 
love. 

Christianity,  as  the  child  born  of  the  marriage 
of  Judaism  and  Paganism,  must  needs  have  repro- 
duced these  ancient  truths  in  fresh  and  higher 
forms.  No  other  sign  than  the  cross  could  then 
have  become  the  symbol  of  the  religion  which, 
as  the  latest  born  of  earth,  takes  up  into  it- 
self the  richest,  deepest,  truest  religions  of  the 
past. 

The  life  of  Jesus  made  these  venerable  faiths 
the  open  consciousness  of  man.  He  brought 
immortality  to  light;  attesting,  in  his  own  re- 
appearance from  the  spirit  sphere,  the  existence 
of  a  life  beyond  the  grave.      The  son  of  Mary 


74  Catholicity 

walked  our  earth  as  the  son  of  God,  filled  with  the 
spirit,  victor  over  every  temptation,  the  holy  one 
of  the  Father.  He  verily  gave  himself  for  us,  a 
sacrifice  for  our  sins.  "He  was  wounded  for  our 
transgressions,  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities; 
the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  him; 
and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed."  "He  gave 
his  life  a  ransom  for  many."  In  him  man  saw 
the  face  of  God  unveiled,  and  knew  that  "God  is 
love."     His  whole  life  was  the  sign  of  life — the 

CROSS. 

Nor  this,  alone,  in  any  figurative  sense.  In  the 
eternal  fitness  of  things,  it  must  needs  have  come 
about  that  he  should  have  been  lifted  up  upon  a 
cross.  It  did  so  come  about.  Contrary  to  the 
law  of  the  land  in  which  he  died,  and  to  the  usages 
of  the  race  to  which  he  belonged,  he  was  crucified. 
Thought  and  deed  were  welded  in  the  death  of 
Jesus;  the  spiritual  reality  translated  itself  into 
a  physical  fact;  and  the  mystic  man,  in  whom 
the  sacrificial  life  of  nature,  of  humanity,  of  God, 
was  supremely  manifest,  actually  died  upon  the 
cross.  "Ought  not  the  Christ  to  have  suffered 
these  things?" 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        75 

Tho*  truths  in  manhood  darkly  join, 

Deep-seated  in  our  mystic  frame, 

We  yield  all  blessing  to  the  name 
Of  Him  that  made  them  current  coin. 

For  Wisdom  dealt  with  mortal  powers, 
Where  truth  in  closest  words  shall  fail, 
When  truth  embodied  in  a  tale 

Shall  enter  in  at  lowly  doors. 

As  the  traveler  looks  down  from  Gray's  Peak 
upon  the  grandest  view  which  this  continent 
affords,  he  beholds  on  one  of  the  largest  mountain 
peaks  the  snow  lying  in  the  form  of  an  immense 
cross.  "As  if,"  so  wrote  Mr.  Samuel  Bowles, 
"God  had  set  His  sign.  His  seal,  His  promise 
there,  a  beacon  upon  the  very  center  and  height 
of  the  continent,  to  all  its  people  and  to  all  its 
generations." 

From  the  study  of  sacred  symbolism  we  may 
well  rise  with  the  greater  question :  What  if  God 
has  set  His  sign  upon  the  universe,  has  stamped 
His  seal  in  the  very  fabric  of  nature,  has  woven 
it  in  the  tissue  of  the  soul  of  man? 

When  the  Spanish  conquerors  of  Mexico  found 
a  certain  native  cross,  which  had  been  reverenced 


76  Catholicity 

for  ages  as  a  divine  symbol,  word  was  sent  of  its 
discovery,  together  with  a  cup  cut  from  its  wood, 
to  the  then  Pope,  Paul  V,  who  received  it  upon 
his  knees,  singing  the  hymn  Vexilla  Regis.  So 
may  we  receive  the  discovery  that  comes  to  us 
from  our  bird's-eye  sweep  of  the  spiritual  story 
of  man,  as  read  in  one  fragment  of  his  sacred  sym- 
bolism— only  with  a  profounder  hush  of  awe, 
breaking  softly  into  a  song  of  deeper  faith  and 
larger  love. 

The  cross,  then,  which  is  supposed  to  be  the 
distinctive  symbol  of  Christianity — that  which  in 
the  realm  of  religious  art  differentiates  Christian- 
ity from  all  other  religions — proves  to  be  the  com- 
mon symbol  of  ethical  and  spiritual  religion,  in 
different  lands  and  different  ages.  It  is  the  sym- 
bol known  to  Hindu,  Chaldean,  Egyptian,  Per- 
sian, Jew,  Greek,  Etruscan,  Roman  and  Goth, 
as  well  as  to  the  natives  of  Mexico  and  South 
America,  the  red  man  of  North  America  and  his 
prehistoric  ancestors,  and  the  islanders  of  the 
Southern  seas;  in  which  tabernacles  Humanity's 
deepest  intuitions  and  aspirations,  its  loftiest 
ideas  and  ideals,  its  most  sacred  hopes  and  faiths, 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        n 

its  very  heart  of  love.  It  is  a  cryptogram  of  uni- 
versal religion,  hiding  the  mystery  of  the  oneness 
of  spiritual  thought  and  life  in  all  lands  and  ages. 
It  is  not  a  symbol  of  an  exclusive  religion,  but  an 
inclusive  religion. 

What  is  true  of  the  cross  is  true  of  all  other  sym- 
bols which  have  hallowed  themselves  in  the  reli- 
gion of  man  as  fit  sacraments  of  the  divine  mystery 
of  life,  as  forms  in  which  man  can  worthily  lift 
his  worship  to  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Being. 
The  traditional  symbolism  of  Christianity  is, 
throughout,  universal  and  human — expressive  of 
the  unity  of  the  spiritual  consciousness  of  man, 
revealing  the  one  ethical  interpretation  of  the 
universe  which  the  soul,  in  men  of  all  colors  and 
races  and  creeds,  when  coming  to  itself,  has  ren- 
dered through  all  time. 

And  this,  which  is  true  of  the  symbols  of  religion, 
is,  with  more  or  less  modification,  true  of  its  insti- 
tutions and  cults  and  beliefs.  On  the  same  plane 
of  intellectual,  ethical  and  spiritual  development, 
the  same  institutions  appear  upon  different  soils; 
through  the  same  forms  of  worship,  men  of  differ- 
ent races  feel  after  God,  "if  haply  they  may  find 


78  Catholicity 

him'*;  into  the  same  aspirations  the  soul  every- 
where strains ;  toward  the  same  forms  of  faith  the 
various  creeds  converge.  One  is  the  faith,  the 
hope,  the  love  of  man.  Religions  are  many — Re- 
ligion is  one.  As  said  St.  Ambrose:  "  Vox  equidem 
dissona,  sed  una  religio,^^  In  the  outer  vestibule 
of  the  temple  of  the  soul  we  may  seem  strangers 
one  to  another  as  we  lift  our  worships,  in  differ- 
ing forms,  to  what  seem  to  be  different  deities. 
But,  when  the  veil  is  lifted  and  we  enter  the  holy 
place,  we  know  ourselves  brothers  in  blood,  and  see 
in  each  other's  faces  the  light  of  the  same  faith  and 
hope  and  love.  It  needs  but  the  living  touch  of 
the  Spirit  to  make  us  each  hear,  in  his  own  tongue, 
the  words  of  him,  of  whatever  race  or  creed,  who 
speaks  to  us  the  deep  things  of  God.  And  this 
means  that  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  makes  .us  all 
kin,  one  to  another.  The  catholicity  of  the  cross ! 
It  is  the  catholicity  of  all  sacred  symbols  imagi- 
native and  intellectual,  the  catholicity  of  spiritual 
religion. 

Why  should  men  of  today,  then,  waste  their- 
moral  energies  and  deaden  their  spiritual  lives 
by  dwelling  on  the  mental  differences  which  neces- 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        79 

sarily  separate  them,  by  quarreling  over  heredi- 
tary variations  of  soul,  by  mounting  guard  upon 
the  barriers  which  isolate  one  from  the  other? 
Why  should  they  covet  the  petty  provincialisms 
of  piety,  rather  than  the  cosmopolitanism  of 
character?  As  runs  the  Chinese  apothegm,  "The 
catholic-minded  man  regards  all  religions  as  em- 
bodying the  same  truths — the  narrow-minded 
man  observes  only  their  differences." 

It  is  open  to  any  one  to  read  the  story  of  the  cross, 
as  of  the  other  Christian  symbols,  aesthetic,  and 
intellectual,  so  as  simply  to  glorify  Christianity; 
finding  in  it  the  bloom  of  Judaism  and  the  flower 
of  Paganism — as  indeed  should  be  the  latest  great 
religion,  growing  from  the  main  stem  of  the  human 
stock,  into  which  the  sap  of  the  soul  of  man  must 
have  poured.  How  great  Christianity  is  can  only 
be  discerned  in  the  larger  faith  which  Liberalism 
teaches  men  to  find  in  their  old  creeds  and  sym- 
bols.    It  is  the  largeness  of  Humanity  itself. 

For  such  glorification  of  Christianity,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  rational,  is,  after  all,  only  a  glorification  of 
the  soul  of  man,  native  under  the  skin  of  Hindu 
and  Egyptian,  Jew  and  Greek  and  Christian.     It 


8o  Catholicity 

is  the  spiritual  nature  of  man  which,  fronting  a 
spiritual  Cosmos,  has  everywhere  thus  read  the 
cosmic  cypher  as  a  secret  of  the  soul,  and  shrined 
in  this  sacred  symbol  the  mystic  meaning  of  life. 
Prophetically  did  Matthew  Tyndal  declare,  long 
ago,  that  Christianity  is  as  old  as  creation.  That 
can  only  be  in  so  far  as  it  is  something  larger  than 
Christianity — in  so  far  as  it  is  Humanity.  After 
the  same  fashion  did  good  St.  Augustine  write, 
in  the  words  too  often  used  polemically,  and  so 
falsely:  "What  is  now  called  the  Christian  reli- 
gion has  existed  among  the  ancients,  and  was  not 
absent  from  the  beginning  of  the  human  race 
until  Christ  came  in  the  flesh,  from  which  time 
the  true  religion,  which  existed  already,  began  to 
be  called  Christian."  "They  builded  wiser  than 
they  knew."  Essential  Christianity  is  essential 
Judaism,  essential  Buddhism,  essential  Hinduism 
— the  one  spiritual  religion  of  man.  The  Christ 
ideal  is  the  human  ideal.  Whatever  the  wasp  of 
Twickenham  meant,  his  words  were  larger  far  than 
he  dreamed:  "The  Christian  is  the  highest  style 
of  man."  The  true  Christian  is  simply  man  in 
his    latest    spiritual    development.     And    so    the 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        8i 

term  ''Christian"  is  rapidly  coming  into  use  as 
synonymous  with  the  latest  and,  therefore,  pre- 
sumably the  highest  evolution  of  the  one  spiritual 
nature  of  humanity.  Professor  Herron  declared 
in  one  of  his  prophetic  lectures:  "By  the  term 
*  Christian '  I  mean  that  quality  of  conscience  and 
sympathy  which  suffers  not  a  man  to  rest  short 
of  some  altar,  however  rude,  on  which  he  offers 
his  life  in  the  common  service,  the  social  good." 

So,  then,  with  the  Persian  it  may  be  said:  "I 
am  at  home  in  mosque  or  synagogue,  in  temple  or 
in  church." 

William  Ellery  Channing  tells  how,  when  he 
had  sought  out  all  the  noble  teachers,  Lao-Tszee 
and  Kung-Fu-Tszee,  with  Zoroaster  and  Buddha, 
Plato  and  Epictetus,  "  hand  in  hand  they  brought 
me  up  to  the  white  marble  steps,  and  the  crystal 
baptismal  fount,  and  the  bread-and-wine  crowned 
communion  table — aye!  to  the  cross  in  the  chancel 
of  the  Christian  Temple;  and  as  they  laid  their 
hands  in  benediction  on  my  head  they  whispered, 
'Here  is  your  real  home.'  " 

This  one  universal  spiritual  religion  of  man — 
must  it  not  be  the  truth  of  the  universe?     What 

6 


82  Catholicity 

certitude  such  a  study  of  sacred  symbolism  gives 
to  the  interpretation  of  the  cosmos  which  has 
been  thus  rendered  everywhere  by  the  soul  of 
man!  What  authority  of  creed  or  council,  of 
patriarch  or  pope,  can  equal  this  authority  of  the 
universal  soul?  It  is  the  authority  of  the  one 
sovereign  pontiff — Humanity. 
George  Eliot  once  said : 

I  think  we  must  not  take  every  great  physicist  or 
other  "ist"  for  an  apostle,  but  be  ready  to  suspect 
him  of  some  crudity  concerning  relations  that  lie 
outside  his  special  studies,  if  his  exposition  strandg 
us  on  results  that  seem  to  stultify  the  most  ardent, 
massive  experiences  of  mankind,  and  hem  up  the 
best  part  of  our  feelings  in  stagnation. 

How  a  light  and  shallow  scepticism  should  shrink 
into  silence  before  this  world-old,  world-wide 
unity  in  the  spiritual  interpretation  of  the  uni- 
verse! Its  silly  sneers  die  out  on  the  lips  of  the 
man  who  seriously  faces  the  fact  of  such  a  cosmic 
creed. 

Such  authority  of  "man  writ  large*'  must  needs 
be  the  authority  of  the  Grand  Man,  in  Sweden- 
borg's   noble   phrase — long   antedating   Comte — 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross         83 

by  which  Swedenborg  meant  more  than  the  human 
race,  even  the  reaHty  back  of  and  within  man, 
back  of  and  within  the  cosmos;  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Energy  out  of  which  we  all  proceed,  the 
Being  *'in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being" — God.  If  there  be  any  revelation  of  God, 
is  it  not  here,  in  "these  massive  and  ardent  spirit- 
ual experiences  of  man,'*  through  which  the  human 
soul  interprets  the  mystery  of  the  universe? 
Shall  we  not  trust  this  body  of  belief  utterly? 

Shall  we  not  trust  it,  not  alone  for  our  indi- 
vidual peace,  but  for  our  social  salvation? 

The  secret  of  society — can  it  be  other  than  the 
secret  of  the  soul,  the  cypher  of  the  cosmos?  How 
shall  we  bring  order  out  of  our  social  chaos,  peace 
out  of  our  economic  strife,  the  millennium  of  pros- 
perity for  all  out  of  the  civilization  of  favored 
classes,  resting  on  the  enforced  barbarism  of  the 
masses?  Let  political  economy  toil  with  this 
problem,  as  it  needs  must  toil.  Its  help  is  sorely 
needed,  for  wiser  legislation  and  a  saner  industry 
and  trade.  But  the  secret  of  the  problem  lies  in 
the  secret  of  the  cosmos,  of  which  a  true  political 
economy  will  be  found  only  a  provincial  law,  the 


84  Catholicity 

law  of  a  part  of  the  infinite  empire;  and  that 
secret,  as  the  soul  everywhere  reads  it,  is  the  cross. 
''There  is,"  as  George  Sand  said,  "but  one  real 
virtue  in  the  world — the  eternal  sacrifice  of  self." 
The  secret  of  social  salvation  will  be  found  when 
wealth  and  culture  shall  accept  the  Cross  as  the 
law  of  life,  and  consecrate  all  powers  and  posses- 
sions and  privileges  to  the  service  of  man. 

The  suffering  world  cries,  in  the  eloquent  appeal 
of  Victor  Hugo,  to  every  fortunate  and  privileged 
man — 

Sacrifice  to  the  mob !  Sacrifice  to  that  unfortunate, 
disinherited,  vanquished,  vagabond,  shocking,  fam- 
ished, repudiated,  despairing  mob.  Sacrifice  to  it, 
if  it  must  be,  and  when  it  must  be,  thy  repose,  thy 
fortune,  thy  joy,  thy  country,  thy  liberty,  thy  life. 
.  .  .  Sacrifice  to  it  thy  gold,  and  thy  blood,  which 
is  more  than  thy  gold;  and  thy  thought,  which  is 
more  than  thy  blood;  and  thy  love,  which  is  more 
than  thy  thought.  Sacrifice  everything  to  it — every- 
thing except  justice. 

Truly,  as  Shelley  once  wrote,  "What  a  divine 
religion  there  might  be  if  love  were  the  principle 
of  it,  instead  of  belief." 


The  Cypher  of  the  Cross        85 

In  the  brotherhood  of  hberals,  in  which  men, 
of  whatever  name,  who  have  outgrown  the  insu- 
larities of  reUgion  and  entered  upon  the  cosmopoli- 
tanism of  character,  the  catholicity  of  the  soul, 
dare  call  themselves  "the  free  men  of  the  spirit," 
may  the  way  be  seen  to  leave  behind  all  the  po- 
lemics of  religious  partisanship,  and  aspire  after 
the  one  spiritual  religion  of  humanity,  the  faith 
and  the  life  of  the  Cross.  Be  it  theirs  so  to  free 
the  different  rehgions  from  their  swathing  bands 
that  they  may  know  the  power  of  individual 
redemption  and  of  social  salvation  held  by  all 
alike  in  their  common  symbol,  and  may  teach 
men  to  live  the  life  of  the  Cross — that  Via  Crucis, 
which  is  forever  Via  Lucis. 


Ill 


THE   WITNESS   OF   SACRED    SYMBOLISM 
TO  THE   UNITY  OF   RELIGION 

The  naked  truth  is  a  rather  cold  and  cheerless 
thing.  To  touch  our  hearts,  it  must  glow  with 
warmth.  That  it  may  be  warm,  it  must  clothe 
itself.  Religious  truth  thus  clothes  itself  in  insti- 
tutions, in  dogmas,  and  in  symbols.  The  symbols 
of  the  Christian  religion  are  about  us  in  every 
church.     Each  church  itself  is  such  a  symbol. 

What  is  a  symbol?  It  is  an  idea  appealing  not 
so  much  to  the  reason  as  to  the  imagination;  a 
truth  clothing  itself,  not  in  the  terms  of  a  propo- 
sition, but  in  a  picture.  A  symbol  is  something 
which  stands  for  something  else ;  which  represents 
it  or  presents  it  again  in  another  form  more  easily 
realized.  It  is  a  material  image  of  something 
immaterial.  It  is  *'an  outward  and  visible  sign 
of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace."     Because  man 

86 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       S7 

is  heart  as  well  as  mind,  imagination  as  well  as 
intellect,  religious  truth  must  always  appeal  to 
the  heart  and  the  imagination,  awakening  feel- 
ing, kindling  intuition.  The  imagination  holds  a 
profoundly  important  place  in  religion.  We 
dwell  amidst  infinite  and  eternal  mysteries,  tran- 
scending all  clear,  cold  thought,  outreaching  the 
halting  steps  of  logic.  What  we  cannot  under- 
stand, we  must  needs  try  to  imagine — that  is,  to 
image  it  in  our  minds,  and,  to  this  end,  image  it 
before  our  eyes.  So  art  takes  orders  in  the  vService 
of  religion  and  helps  us  poor  mortals  apprehend 
that  by  which  we  are  also  apprehended — the 
Infinite  and  Eternal  Power  in  which  "we  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being." 

Nature  itself  is  symbolic,  sacramental.  Each 
thing  is  like  unto  some  other  thing.  The  great 
Master  teaches  us  that  the  kingdom  of  Heaven 
is  "like  unto" — almost  everything.  Nature  is  a 
vast  hierarchy  of  lives,  each  successive  stage  of 
which  is  an  adumbration  or  shadowing  forth  of 
that  life  which  is  higher  than  itself.  Matter 
images  mind,  flesh  symbolizes  spirit,  nature  is 
the  sacrament  of  the  living  God.     Everything  is 


88  Catholicity 

a  visible  picture  of  a  thought.  All  things  seen 
are  symbols  of  things  unseen. 

It  is  by  a  natural  and  necessary  instinct,  there- 
fore, that  religion  consecrates  art  to  her  service, 
and  calls  upon  her,  as  her  handmaiden,  to  inter- 
pret to  the  imagination  of  men  those  mysteries 
which  she  cannot  reveal  adequately  to  their  intel- 
lect. Religion,  therefore,  has  always  evolved  its 
sacred  symbolisms.  Christianity  has  its  own  rich 
treasures  of  symbolism — treasures  worthy  of  the 
great  mysteries  which  it  enshrines  for  posterity. 
If  Christianity  be  a  Catholic  religion,  capable  of 
developing  into  a  truly  universal  religion,  its  sym- 
bolism must  be  Catholic,  Universal — large  as 
man  himself.  The  symbols  which  the  coming 
man  is  to  reverently  use  in  his  worship,  must  be 
the  heritage  of  man  from  the  far  past.  They  must 
be  the  growth  of  humanity,  for  humanity. 

The  sacred  symbols  of  our  Christian  religion 
do  thus  disclose  themselves  to  be  the  outworkings 
of  an  immemorial  antiquity,  the  jealously-guarded 
treasures  of  man  in  many  lands  and  many  ages 
of  the  far  past. 

Primitive  Christianity  had  no  sacred  art,  no 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       89 

religious  symbols.  It  inherited  from  its  mother, 
Judaism,  a  distrust  of  art  in  religion.  The  deep 
human  craving,  however,  was  not  long  in  asserting 
itself.  Man  began  to  crave  some  visible  sign  or 
symbol  of  his  faith  and  hope.  The  art  instinct, 
latent  in  human  nature,  sought  expression.  We 
can  trace  the  beginnings  of  Christian  art  in  the 
Catacombs — those  subterranean  places  of  refuge 
which  were  the  resort  of  the  early  Christians; 
at  once  the  same  meeting  places  for  these  new 
confraternities,  which  were  under  the  ban  of  the 
Empire,  and  their  places  for  burial.  Over  these 
rock  hewn  vaults,  the  first  rude  tracings  of  Chris- 
tian art  appear.  The  very  earliest  Christian 
symbol  apparently  was  the  pictured  form  of 
the  Good  Shepherd.  That  exquisite  sketch  of  the 
Master  appealed  with  irresistible  power  to  the 
imagination  of  the  early  Christians.  No  other 
picture  which  he  drew  left  such  an  indelible  trace 
upon  the  hearts  of  his  followers  in  those  first  days. 
The  popular  religion  of  the  first  two  centuries 
might  well  be  called  the  Religion  of  the  Good 
Shepherd.  The  book  which  corresponded  most 
closely    to    our    own    "Pilgrim's    Progress" — the 


90  Catholicity 

most  popular  religious  book  of  the  modern  world 
— was  the  ''Shepherd  of  Hermas";  which,  in 
the  second  century,  was  known  and  cherished 
throughout  the  Roman  Empire;  the  most  widely 
read  book  of  the  times;  the  sacred  writing  then 
deemed  to  be  part  of  the  Holy  Canon  and  one  of 
its  choicest  gems — though  it  has  dropped  out 
from  between  the  lids  of  our  Bible  and  has  passed 
forth  from  the  memory  of  the  Church.  "The 
kindness,  the  courage,  the  grace,  the  love,  the 
beauty,  of  the  Good  Shepherd  was  to  them,  if  we 
may  so  say,  prayer  book  and  articles,  creed  and 
canons,  all  in  one."  ,  They  looked  on  that  figure, 
and  it  conveyed  to  them  all  they  wanted.  When 
these  early  Christians  came  to  picture  their  Good 
Shepherd,  they  found  no  suitable  form  ready  at 
hand  in  art;  and  so,  with  the  fearlessness  of  that 
free  age,  bound  by  no  superstitious  traditions,  in 
no  jealous  fear  of  the  larger  human  life  round  about 
the  new  Church,  they  turned  to  the  art  of  Greece, 
and  made  use  of  forms  which  they  found  therein, 
conspicuously,  the  Hermes  Kriophorus.  The  Good 
Shepherd,  as  we  see  Him  in  these  Catacombs,  is 
in  the  bloom  of  youth,  with  a  crook  or  a  shepherd's 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       91 

staff  in  one  hand,  and  on  his  shoulder  a  lamb, 
which  he  carefully  carries  and  holds  with  the  other 
hand.  A  figure  not  unlike  this  Good  Shepherd 
can  be  traced  through  different  forms  of  Grecian 
worship. 

Sometimes  the  Good  Shepherd  of  the  Cata- 
combs is  in  the  dancing  attitude  familiar  to  us 
from  innumerable  pictures  of  Grecian  shepherds. 
At  other  times,  the  form  of  Apollo  is  consecrated 
to  a  higher  use.  Orpheus,  charming  the  animals 
with  his  sweet  music,  does  duty  for  the  Christ,  the 
sweet  strains  of  whose  Evangel  so  charmed  their 
hearts.  One  notable  fresco  is  a  purely  Grecian 
picture  of  Orpheus,  surrounded  by  panels  giving 
various  scriptural  scenes.  Far  back  of  Greece, 
India  had  its  conception  which  was  the  proto- 
type of  the  Christians'  Good  Shepherd — Krishna, 
charming  the  beasts  with  his  lute.  So  universal 
is  that  thought  which  the  Jewish  poet  sang,  in 
strains  so  familiar  to  us  all — ''He  shall  feed  his 
flock  like  a  shepherd";  the  antiphon  in  antiquity 
of  the  forever  sacred  song  of  the  Divine  Man — 
"I  am  the  Good  Shepherd:  the  Good  Shepherd 
giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep." 


92  Catholicity 

Of  the  symbols  still  in  use  among  us  in  our 
Christianity,  nearly  all  betray  their  ancient  human 
lineage.  I  remember,  as  a  boy,  in  old  St.  Paul's 
Church,  Philadelphia,  studying,  from  the  rector's 
pew  in  the  front  of  the  church,  the  peculiar  railing 
which  surrounded  the  chancel.  It  was  the  fa- 
miliar square  returning  within  itself,  in  closer  coils. 
There  was  something  about  it  that  fascinated  my 
child-mind — I  could  not  tell  why.  I  divined  the 
secret  years  after,  when  I  learned  that  this 
familiar  ecclesiastical  ornament  was  indeed  an 
ancient  symbol  handed  down  from  the  times  of 
classic  Greece ;  in  which  it  was  the  conventionalized 
representation  of  the  famous  labyrinth — itself, 
the  symbol  of  the  strange,  mysterious,  perplexing, 
baffling  life  in  which  we  find  ourselves. 

A  symbol  which  still  is  used  somewhat  in  Chris- 
tendom, but  which  has  lost  its  ancient  popularity, 
is  the  fish.  In  early  Christian  art  it  was  the 
sacred  sign  of  Jesus  Christ  himself.  Tertullian, 
one  of  the  Latin  Fathers,  writes:  "We,  little 
fishes,  according  to  our  Ixthus,  Jesus  Christ,  are 
born  in  water;  nor  have  we  safety  in  any  other 
way  than  by  permanently  remaining  in  water." 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       93 

St.  Augustine  pointed  out  that  if  we  join  together 
the  initial  letters  of  the  five  Greek  words  which 
stand  for  Jesus  Christ,  Son  of  God,  the  Saviour, 
they  will  make  Ixthus,  fish;  in  which  word  Christ 
is  mystically  understood,  because  He  was  able  to 
live  in  the  abyss  of  this  mortality,  as  in  the  depth 
of  waters,  that  is,  without  sin.  This  rather  crude 
sort  of  mystical  imagination  was  very  popular 
in  the  early  Church.  When  we  trace  the  origin 
of  this  symbol,  we  find  it  reaching  back  into  pre- 
Christian  times.  In  the  Talmud,  the  Messiah 
is  called  Dag,  that  is,  fish.  This,  at  once,  in 
the  minds  of  Biblical  readers,  brings  to  our  re- 
membrance the  Dagon,  the  God  Fish,  of  the  early 
historical  books.  And  this  connects  the  Jewish 
and  Christian  symbol  with  one  of  the  oldest  myth- 
ological stories  of  Chaldea.  According  to  this 
tradition,  there  appeared  in  ancient  times,  from 
the  sea  bordering  upon  Babylonia,  a  strange 
being  whose  body  Vv^as  like  a  fish,  but  who  had, 
under  the  fish's  head,  another  head,  and  with  the 
feet  of  a  man  also  below  the  tail;  his  voice  and 
language  were  articulate  and  human.  He,  it 
was,  who  taught  men  letters,  sciences  and  arts. 


94  Catholicity 

Under  his  instruction,  they  learned  to  build  cities, 
to  found  temples,  to  compile  laws, .  and  to  gain 
the  rudiments  of  scientific  knowledge.  This 
Oannes  was,  in  truth,  a  mythical  form  of  the  uni- 
versal human  instinct,  under  which  men  rightly 
attribute  to  some  Heaven-sent  Teacher  and  Sav- 
iour their  inspiration  to  higher  life.  So  the  simple 
fish  symbol  of  the  Christ  links  us  to  the  far  back 
pre-historic  times  and  to  the  most  ancient  myths 
of  the  early  human  soul,  and  to  the  deepest  in- 
stincts of  man's  spiritual  nature. 

From  the  very  beginnings  of  Christian  art  the 
Dove  appears — in  fresco  paintings,  sculptures  on 
gravestones  or  tablets,  in  Mosaic  lamps  and 
glasses — as  the  symbol  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 
As  such,  we  still  cherish  it.  You  will  still  see  it 
frequently  in  our  churches,  painted  above  the 
altar.  In  the  stories  of  the  Master,  at  the  moment 
of  the  opening  of  the  self-consciousness,  as  he 
stood  in  the  Jordan  receiving  Baptism  from  John, 
and  there  knew  Himself  to  be  the  Christ  of  God, 
a  dove  descended  upon  His  head.  The  dove  is 
the  symbol  of  that  inspiration  which  guides  the 
counsels  of  kings,   as  well  as  the  utterances  of 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       95 

teachers.  To-day,  in  the  coronation  of  the  Kings 
and  Queens  of  England,  a  Duke  goes  before  the 
Sovereign,  bearing  the  sceptre  surmounted  by  a 
dove.  Mohammed,  who  so  strangely  blended  the 
charlatan  and  the  prophet,  realizing  the  value  of 
symbolism  to  his  ignorant  followers,  taught  a 
dove  to  perch  on  his  shoulder,  and  there  the  bird 
would  remain  for  several  hours;  the  followers  of 
the  prophet  seeing  in  the  bird  a  heavenly  messen- 
ger commissioned  to  reveal  to  him  the  will  of  the 
Almighty.  The  dove  again  is  an  ancient  human 
symbol  of  the  inspiring  spirit.  Conspicuously 
in  India,  Egypt  and  Greece,  but  among  all  reli- 
gions it  has  been  the  recognized  symbol  of  the 
spirit  who  inspires  truth  and  life.  Tracking 
the  symbol  back  to  its  origins,  we  find  here,  as 
always,  beginnings  which  we  do  not  care  further 
to  explore — as  must  needs  have  been  the  case  in 
the  symbol  which  arose  in  early  days  when  man 
himself  was  only  slightly  spiritual,  was  still  largely 
animal.  But  with  the  growth  of  man's  spirit- 
uality, the  symbol  took  on  ever  deeper  significance 
in  paganism,  as  in  Christianity.  Readers  of 
Ruskin  will  recall  that  magnificent  description  in 


96  Catholicity 

"The  Queen  of  the  Air"  of  the  bird,  as  "the  symbol 
of  the  spirit  of  Hfe,"  which  he  concludes  by  saying: 

And  so  the  Spirit  of  the  Air  is  put  into,  and  upon 
this  created  form;  and  it  becomes,  through  twenty 
centuries,  the  symbol  of  Divine  help,  descending,  as 
the  Fire,  to  speak,  but  as  the  Dove,  to  bless. 

The  Eagle  has  been  another  familiar  symbol  of 
our  ecclesiastical  art.  It  is  the  conventional  form 
of  the  Lectern  which  upholds  the  Bible.  It  is  the 
traditional  symbol  of  St.  John,  the  spiritual  Apostle, 
the  traditional  author  of  the  spiritual  Gospel. 
Not  from  those  predatory  and  ferocious  qualities 
which  have  made  it  the  symbol  of  mighty  states 
has  it  come  thus  into  use  in  Christian  art,  but 
simply  from  the  recognition  that,  in  its  might,  it 
is  the  typical  creature  of  the  air,  the  king  of  the 
birds,  as  the  lion  is  the  king  of  the  beasts.  Again, 
we  find  this  symbolism  far  antedating  Christian- 
ity. Among  all  the  Asiatic  peoples  the  eagle  was 
the  Child  of  the  Sun,  and  consecrated  to  the  Sun 
God. 

From  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  to  the  present 
time,  the  prevailing  symbol  of  our  Lord  has  been 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       97 

that  of  the  Lamb.  It  is  the  accepted  sign  of  the 
Crucified  One.  As  such,  its  use  is  habitually  in 
our  churches.  Here  again,  however,  as  we  might 
expect,  since  the  thing  signified  is  so  deep  and 
vital,  the  very  mystery  of  the  Divine  Life  itself, 
the  symbol  of  it  is  as  old  as  religious  art,  and  as 
widely  spread  as  man  himself,  upon  our  globe. 
The  Pagan  world,  because  it  was  a  human  world 
facing  the  same  interior  mystery,  fronting  the 
same  universe  with  its  indwelling  law  of  sacrifice 
— the  Pagan  world  also  had  its  idea  of  sacrifice 
and  suffering,  as  the  secret  of  entering  upon  eter- 
nal life.  It,  too,  had  its  visions  of  the  Divine 
Saviour  ever  coming  to  redeem  man  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  Himself.  In  every  religion  this  vision  was 
had.  In  every  land  some  great  form  of  a  Divine 
Saviour  looms  up  before  men — some  one  bearing 
his  cross  before  them,  some  righteous  suffering 
servant  of  Jehovah,  some  good  man  rejected  and 
persecuted  and  finally  put  to  a  cruel  death.  And 
the  symbol  of  this  sacrificial  salvation  was  always 
the  Lamb — the  type  of  innocence  and  purity, 
which  thus,  in  early  days,  came  to  be  the  sacri- 
ficial offering  upon  the  altar,  and  thus  grew  grad- 


98  Catholicity 

ually  into  the  symbol  of  the  sacrificial  life  which 
is  the  one  offering  acceptable  to  God.  The  Agnus 
Dei  has,  from  time  immemorial,  in  different  reli- 
gions, been  the  symbol  of  the  suffering,  sacrificing 
Saviour,  through  Whom  men,  in  different  lands 
felt  that  they  were  to  be  led  unto  God. 

The  Lion  is  another  symbol  familiar  to  all 
students  of  Christian  art.  The  lion  of  the  tribe 
of  Judah,  the  lion  who  stands  for  the  Evangelist, 
St.  Mark, — this  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  figures 
of  ecclesiastical  art.  It  signs  or  signifies  the  power 
and  strength  and  vigor,  the  masterful  and  ruling 
qualities  of  the  divine  human  life,  which  gathered 
in  the  person  of  Jesus  so  supremely.  Again,  the 
lion  is  an  immemorially  ancient  religious  symbol. 
On  the  religious  monuments  of  nearly  all  nations 
we  find  the  lion  as  a  symbol  of  strength  and  vigi- 
lance— often  placed  in  temples  or  at  their  entrances, 
to  signify  protection  and  returning  life.  An  an- 
cient Persian  symbol  of  the  Divine  Power  was 
a  lion  with  a  honey-bee  in  its  mouth — reminding 
us  of  Samson's  famous  riddle.  What  is  the  Sphinx 
that  sits  on  guard  near  the  great  Pyramids,  to 
this  day,  but  this  same  symbol — the  animal  with 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism       99 

the  lion's  body  and  the  man's  head?  Just  as,  at 
the  entrance  of  the  Basilicas  of  Italy,  you  will 
see  the  lion  stationed,  so  at  the  gates  of  the  ancient 
temples  of  Egypt  you  will  find  them  fulfilling  the 
same  function  in  symbolism — acting  as  the  guar- 
dians of  the  sacred  places. 

The  sacred  form  of  the  Blessed  Mother  and 
the  Divine  Child,  so  dear  to  our  Christian  hearts, 
hallowed  by  immemorial  use  in  our  churches, 
proves  also  to  date  from  ages  far  back  of  Christian- 
ity. In  the  ancient  temples  of  the  East,  you 
might  have  seen  almost  the  same  representation. 
The  Egyptian  I  sis  was  pictured  holding  her 
infant  Horus  in  her  arms,  after  the  same  fashion. 
She  was  even  represented  as  our  Christian  Mary 
appears,  standing  on  the  crescent  moon  with 
twelve  stars  about  her  head.  Even  to  the  color- 
ing of  the  figures  the  symbolism  holds  through  the 
ages.  The  conventional  blue  of  our  Madonna 
was  the  color  of  the  robe  of  the  Egyptian  Isis. 
For  blue  has,  from  times  immemorial,  been  the 
color  of  the  spiritual  life.  Nor  need  we  wonder 
at  this  antiquity  of  the  Sacred  Mother  and  the 
Divine  Child.     It  §rew  out  of  the  recognition  of 


100  Catholicity 

the  intrinsic  sacredness  of  motherhood,  of  the 
essential  divineness  of  every  new-born  child  com- 
ing into  the  world.  Could  the  mystery  of  our 
human  life  have  a  nobler  symbol  than  that  which 
enshrines,  for  our  reverence,  the  true  Mother  and 
the  true  Child?  There  was  more  than  this,  how- 
ever, in  the  ancient  symbol.  Ancient  Pagan 
religions  had  their  dream  of  a  Divine  Teacher  and 
Saviour  coming  into  the  world,  in  the  same  myste- 
rious manner  as  our  own  Christ.  The  instinct 
which  has  led  to  the  vision  of  the  birth  of  Christ, 
led  to  the  same  vision  of  the  birth  of  Buddha, 
and  of  other  saviours  of  man.  So  India  had  its 
Maya,  the  Virgin  Mother  of  Buddha,  and  Devaki, 
the  Virgin  Mother  of  Christna ;  each  of  whom  was 
represented  by  art  in  the  great  temples,  as  holding 
her  divinely  born  son  in  her  arms,  in  forms  that 
might  well  take  the  place  of  our  familiar  Madonna 
and  the  Infant  Jesus. 

The  monogram  of  my  own  parish  in  New  York 
had  its  familiar  and  suggestive  symbolism.  There 
was  first  the  circle — the  natural  sign  of  unity, 
infinity,  eternity,  perfection — God.  The  circle 
has  been  this  same  symbol  in  ages  far  back  of 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism     loi 

Christianity,  in  religions  which  we  think  of  as 
only  Pagan.  It  is  the  natural  human  symbolism 
for  these  transcendent  conceptions.  The  trefoil 
and  the  triangle  were  drawn  within  the  enspher- 
ing circle.  They  symbolize  the  mystery  which 
Christian  dogma  represents  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
Divine  Trinity: — not  a  doctrine  of  three  Gods, 
but  simply  of  a  threefoldness  in  the  one  God. 
These  sacred  signs  were  used  in  the  temples  of 
paganism  in  Egypt  and  in  India,  with  the  same 
significance.  Man,  in  ancient  times,  had  learned 
to  recognize  a  manifoldness  in  the  Divine  Unity. 
He  had  learned  to  express  this  variety  in  unity  by 
the  conception  of  God  as  being  three  in  one.  The 
conception  is  thus  ancient  and  universal,  and 
its  symbol  is  as  wide  as  the  thought.  Finally, 
the  monogram  held,  within  these  designs,  the  most 
sacred  sign  of  religion,  the  Cross. 

In  all  our  churches  stand  certain  sacred  symbols 
most  intimately  associated  with  the  deepest  life 
of  man  in  Christianity.  In  every  church  you 
will  find  the  font  and  the  table  or  the  altar — the 
account  of  the  ancient  derivation  of  which  has 
been  given  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  volume. 


102  Catholicity 

The  font  is  the  stone  symbol  of  the  rite  of  baptism, 
itself  an  active  symbol  of  the  spiritual  life.  Bap- 
tism, the  symbol  of  initiation  into  the  Christian 
church,  is  far  older  than  Christianity — it  is  as 
old  as  spiritual  religion  in  every  land  and  under 
every  form.  Our  Christian  baptism  thus  proves 
to  be  the  natural  development  of  the  same  sacred 
symbolism  which  suggested  itself  to  the  souls  of 
men  in  ancient  times  and  in  different  lands — the 
natural  and  necessary,  the  beautiful  and  divine 
symbolism  of  the  washing  away  of  sins  and  the 
entering  upon  a  new  and  higher  life. 

The  table  in  the  chancel — when  one  still  sees 
this  primitive  wooden  symbol  of  the  Holy  Supper 
— is  the  outward  and  material  sign  of  the  rite 
which  is  itself  a  symbol  of  an  ethical  and  spiritual 
truth — the  communion  of  man  with  man,  in  holy 
brotherhood;  the  communion  of  man  with  God, 
in  divine  fellowship.  The  table — the  board  on 
which  the  social  supper  of  the  Christian  brother- 
hood is  spread,  is  the  material  symbol  of  the  fra- 
ternity which  ought  to  exist  in  every  Christian 
church;  which  did  once  exist  in  every  Christian 
society;  a    veritable,    real    and    living    bond    of 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism      103 

brotherhood.  The  primitive  supper  of  the  Lord, 
the  Agapae  or  Love  Feast,  was  an  outgrowth  from 
the  sacred  social  meal  of  the  secret  confraternities 
of  working  men  in  the  Roman  Empire.  In  the 
lodge  rooms  of  those  confraternities  of  labor, 
stood  the  table — the  outward  and  visible  sign  of 
the  social  supper — around  which  the  persecuted 
societies  met  in  secret  and  partook  together  of  a 
common  meal  in  sign  of  their  life  in  common. 

Around  this  sacred  table,  in  the  Christian  church, 
we  meet,  not  simply  to  sign  and  seal  the  commun- 
ion of  the  saints,  the  fellowship  of  man  with  man, 
but  to  sign  and  seal  the  communion  of  each  man 
with  God,  the  fellowship  of  the  human  spirit  with 
the  Divine  Spirit.  As  previously  pointed  out, 
this  same  symbohsm  prevailed  in  ancient  times 
in  different  forms  of  religion,  when  the  lower 
paganisms  of  nature-worship  reached  up  into 
the  stress  and  strain  of  the  soul,  to  find  God,  and 
to  become  partakers  of  the  Divine  Life, — the  Life 
of  Purity  and  Goodness.  In  all  lands,  and  under 
all  religions,  as  man  grew  spiritual,  his  religion 
became  a  spiritual  longing — a  longing  of  the 
human  spirit  after  the   Divine  Spirit.      And  the 


104  Catholicity 

symbol  of  this  fellowship  became  the  symbolism 
which  we  still  cherish.  The  confusion  of  the 
symbol  with  the  truth  symbolized  is  the  danger 
of  all  symbolism.  None  the  less  how  natural 
and  necessary,  how  beautiful  and  divine,  this 
symbolism!  No  other  has  ever  suggested  itself 
to  the  soul  of  man,  so  fitting,  so  helpful.  It  comes 
down  to  us  hallowed  with  memories  of  the  ages. 

In  many  of  our  churches,  in  lieu  of  the  table, 
there  is  the  altar.  A  later  growth  in  the  Christian 
Church,  this — in  part,  an  ecclesiastical  departure 
from  primitive  Christianity;  a  reproduction  of 
the  sacerdotalism  and  sacramentalism  common 
to  Judaism,  and  to  most  forms  of  paganism; 
but,  in  part,  also,  something  deeper  and  truer — 
a  natural  symbolic  evolution.  From  the  begin- 
ning, in  the  simple  sacrament  of  the  Supper  of  the 
Lord,  the  memorial  of  the  Divine  Sufferer,  there 
was  imbedded  the  central  and  essential  idea  of 
sacrifice — as,  alone,  the  means  whereby  human 
fellowship  is  cemented;  alone,  the  means  whereby 
the  fellowship  of  man  with  God  is  perfected. 
And  so  the  symbolism  of  sacrifice  gradually 
usurped  the  place  of  the  symbolism  of  fellowship 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism     105 

and  communion,  and  the  table  grew  into  the 
altar.  The  altar,  we  iind  everywhere  in  ancient 
religions.  In  the  beginnings  of  every  religion, 
it  is  the  outward  symbol,  in  stone,  of  the  super- 
stitious and  barbarous  conception  of  sacrifice, 
which  naturally  prevailed  among  superstitious 
and  barbarous  people.  Life  was  offered  to  the 
angry  god,  to  propitiate  his  favor  and  to  buy 
man's  ransom  from  his  wrath.  But  as  man  grew 
more  ethical  and  spiritual,  his  vision  of  God  grew 
purer  and  nobler,  his  vision  of  sacrifice  grew  sweeter 
and  truer.  He  discerned  that  the  only  sacrifice 
acceptable  to  a  righteous  and  living  God,  is  the 
sacrificial  life  of  service,  by  which  man  helps  his 
fellow  into  the  diviner  life,  and  thus  enters,  himself, 
into  that  divine  life,  the  life  of  the  God  Who  is 
ever  coming  forth,  not  to  be  ministered  unto, 
but  to  minister.  Thus,  in  every  religion  of  an- 
tiquity, in  its  higher  forms,  the  initiates  of  the 
Spirit  discerned,  through  the  altar  symbolism, 
the  great  truth  of  the  altar  life — the  life  surren- 
dering pleasure  to  duty,  interest  to  service,  self 
to  man — to  God.  We  repeat  every  Communion 
Sunday,  in  higher,  purer,  more  ethical  and  spirit- 


io6  Catholicity 

ual  forms,  the  sacred  symbolism  of  our  ancestors, 
whereby  they  expressed  the  deepest  truth  dis- 
cerned by  man,  that  the  bond  of  brotherhood  is 
sealed  in  blood,  the  giving  of  life;  that  the  fellow- 
ship of  man  with  God  is  an  entering  into  the 
divine  life  of  service. 

The  vast  volume  of  research  in  the  study  of 
the  sources  of  sacred  symbolism,  which  through 
its  significances,  records  the  common  intuitions 
and  aspirations  of  mankind  and  shows  Christianity 
to  be  the  flower  of  paganism,  can  be  drawn  on 
further  here  in  but  a  few  brief  surveys.  Archaso- 
logically  and  ethnically  the  study  calls  for  a  review 
of  limitless  and  ever  increasing  material.  Philo- 
sophically, a  little  touched  upon  suffices. 

Prayer,  which  in  the  secret  place  of  the  soul, 
as  individual  communion  with  God,  rises  above 
all  symbolism,  into  pure  thought  and  aspiration, 
cannot  be  thus  sublimated  in  the  great  assembly. 
It  must  needs  then  take  on  outward  and  visible 
forms,  and  become  the  uttered  prayer.  It  will 
then,  for  the  sake  of  dignity  and  order,  call  in  the 
aid  of  the  highest  arts,  literary  art  and  musical 
art,  and  become  thus  a  symbol,   an  outward  and 


The  Witness  of  Symbolism      107 

visible  sign  of  the  inward  communion  of  the  soul 
with  God.  Our  liturgies  are  oftentimes  noble 
works  of  literary  art,  and,  when  wedded  to  music, 
are  noble  works  of  the  highest  dramatic  art — music 
lifting  the  aspiration  of  the  soul  and  winging  the 
spirit's  longings  upward  after  God.  It  would 
be  possible  to  trace  hints,  through  our  liturgical 
forms,  of  the  same  sources  which  we  have  seen 
to  exist  in  other  symbols.  If  we  turn  to  the  Lita- 
nies in  which  the  Catholic  saints  are  supplicated, 
we  shall  find  strange  resemblances  to  the  ancient 
Litanies  in  which  the  pagan  gods  and  goddesses 
were  supplicated.  The  Litany  of  Our  Lady  of 
Loretto,  for  example,  we  placed,  sentence  by 
sentence,  alongside  of  the  Hindu  Litany  of  Our 
Lady  Nari,  and  the  Egyptian  Litany  of  Our 
Lady  Isis,  in  parallel  columns,  and  there  were 
shown  to  be  scarcely  more  changes  in  the  language 
than  were  necessitated  by  the  change  of  names 
from  paganism  to  Christianity.^  Even  that 
touchingly  simple  and  intensely  earnest  invoca- 
tion in  our  central  office  of  worship,  so  long  in  use 
in  the  Christian  Church,  under  the  name  of  Kyrie 

*See  page  ii. 


io8  Catholicity 

Eleison,  Lord  have  Mercy  upon  Us,  is  a  close  re- 
production of  a  part  of  the  Litany  to  the  Supreme 
God,  either  among  the  Greeks  or  the  Latins,  or 
both,  in  which,  an  ancient  author  says  that, 
"invoking  God,  we  pray  to  Him  after  this  manner 
— Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us,"  Kyrie  Eleison. 
So  inevitably  does  the  human  spirit  run  its 
thoughts  and  phrases  into  similar  moulds  of  form, 
when  it  enters  into  similar  stages  of  thought  and 
feeling. 

There  are  other,  and  yet  higher,  symbols  in 
our  Christianity,  less  material,  more  purely 
mental.  There  is  a  literary  art,  as  well  as  a 
pictorial  or  a  musical  art.  Literary  art  has  been 
called  into  service  in  seeking  to  fashion  fit  forms 
for  man's  thoughts  of  the  infinite  and  transcen- 
dent mysteries.  Then,  because  they  transcend 
all  clear,  cold,  intellectual  perception,  imagina- 
tion has  been  summoned  to  the  service  of  the  soul, 
and  has  sought  to  image,  in  pictorial  forms  of 
expression,  these  sacred  mysteries. 


IV 


CHRISTIANITY  THE   FLOWER 
OF  PAGANISM 

When  I  was  a  boy  I  had  a  little  flower  garden. 
The  flowers  did  not  come  forward  fast  enough 
to  suit  me,  and  so  one  day  I  bought  some  roses 
and  tied  them  to  sticks  and  thrust  them  into  the 
ground,  and  had  my  garden  ripening  in  an  hour. 
Is  Christianity  such  a  garden,  in  which  the  flowers 
of  life  and  truth  are  merely  stuck  into  the  soil 
of  humanity;  or  is  it  a  genuine  garden  in  which 
every  bud  and  blossom  is  a  real  growth  from  the 
living  soil?  Mormonism  claims  that  its  constitu- 
tion and  polity,  its  body  of  truth  and  system  of 
worship  have  been  let  down  straight  from  the 
skies.  The  book  of  Mormon  was  found,  so  runs 
the  legend  among  the  devout,  by  the  great  Prophet 
where  an  angel  had  left  it  after  writing  it.     Is 

Christianity  such  a  body  of  truth  and  system  of 

109 


no  Catholicity 

worship,  dropped  from  the  heavens;  or  is  it  a 
genuine  growth  of  humanity? 

The  claims  of  ecclesiasticism  on  this  point  are 
famihar  enough  to  ears  that  have  been  well  dinned 
with  their  blatant  pretensions.  Our  wonderful 
age  has  made  clear  to  candid  minds  the  facts  of 
the  case.  Of  these  facts  but  a  few  more  need  be 
touched  upon  to  supplement  the  review  previously 
assigned  to  the  role  of  "Pagan." 

In  its  organization,  Christianity  is  now  con- 
fessed by  the  highest  authorities  to  have  been 
a  natural  development  of  pre-existing  systems, 
ecclesiastic,  civic  and  political.  The  Church 
grew  out  of  the  simplest  and  most  rudimentary 
beginnings ;  following  the  lines  of  the  trellis  which 
the  Jewish  Church  and  the  Roman  Empire  had 
reared  for  it.  The  Jewish  synagogue,  with  its 
system  of  administration  and  form  of  worship, 
supplied  the  pattern  for  the  Christian  ecclesia  or 
Church.  The  hierarchal  form  of  Christianity, 
which  is  found  most  fully  developed  in  Catholicism, 
is  the  Jewish  priestly  system  transferred  to  Chris- 
tianity. The  gradual  consolidation  of  the  scattered 
Christian  societies  took  shape  from  the  mould  of 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       m 

organization  which  the  genius  of  Imperial  Rome  had 
fashioned  for  its  political  administration.  Parish, 
diocese  and  province  are  but  the  old  territorial 
divisions  of  Rome,  rising  into  an  ecclesiastical 
empire  as  of  old  into  a  political  empire.  Insti- 
tutional Christianity  is  thus  a  growth  from  pre- 
existent  and  pagan  forms  of  organization — whether 
of  the  paganism  of  Israel  or  the  paganism  of  Rome. 

In  its  philosophical  symbolisms,  as  well  as  in 
its  concrete  symbols,  Christianity  stands  now  con- 
fessed as  a  growth  from  pre-existent  religions. 

The  Christian  Church  holds,  as  a  word  thrown 
out  at  the  mystery  of  sin,  the  familiar  story  of  the 
Fall  in  Eden.  Was  this  new  with  Christianity? 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  now  traced  through  many 
ancient  peoples,  as  far  back  as  the  light  of  history 
reaches.  The  human  mind  had  of  necessity  raised 
the  question  of  the  origin  of  evil  long  before  our 
era,  and  had  fashioned  the  parable  of  this  mystery, 
into  which,  as  an  heirloom  of  the  ages,  Christian- 
ity entered.  To  go  no  further  than  the  direct 
ancestral  line  of  Christianity  the  Eden  parable 
had  been  in  the  possession  of  Israel  centuries 
before  our  era,  and  it  had  been  drawn  by  Israel 


112  Catholicity 

from  the  earlier  civilization  out  of  which  the 
Hebrew  sprang.  From  the  long  buried  ruins 
of  this  civilization  we  have  unearthed  the  records 
of  its  religion,  and  read  to-day  on  the  tablets  of  the 
Chaldean  Genesis  fragments  of  the  cycle  of  legends 
of  which  the  poem  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  formed 
a  part.  A  rude  outline  sketch,  so  strangely  pre- 
served to  us  from  this  vast  antiquity,  reproduces 
the  unmistakable  picture  familiar  to  us  in  the 
words  of  our  Genesis — the  sacred  tree,  the  woman 
standing  beneath,  reaching  forth  her  hand  to 
pluck  the  fruit,  the  serpent  on  the  other  side  of 
the  tree  as  though  whispering  in  her  ear — curiously 
poised  in  the  very  fashion  which  Milton  imagined, 
erect  in  spiral  form  upon  his  tail. 

Our  creeds  are  rightly  called  "symbols."  They 
are  mental  transparencies,  through  which  we  look 
at  the  unseen  realities ;  images  of  spiritual  verities ; 
"words  thrown  out  at"  the  transcendent  myster- 
ies. They  stand  for  truths  which  cannot  stand  out 
into  visible  form  in  the  human  mind.  They  are 
mental  symbols.  They  too  are  not  new  but  old, 
not  manufacturers  of  Christianity  but  growths 
of  humanity.     The  great  dogmas  antedate   our 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       113 

Christian  era.  They  were  in  the  worid  before  the 
Church.  The  Fathers  were  but  children  in  the 
study  of  these  venerable  beliefs. 

The  second  paragraph  of  the  Nicene  Creed, 
which  concerns  the  personality  of  Jesus,  the  Christ, 
is  pure  philosophy.  But,  it  is  poetic  philosophy, 
mystical  philosophy,  imaginative  philosophy — 
philosophy  in  symbolic  forms,  picturing  what 
cannot  be  stated  in  precise  terms.  Now  every 
phrase  in  the  opening  of  this  second  section  of  the 
Nicene  Creed,  has  been  beaten  and  hammered 
into  shape  on  the  anvils  of  man's  thought,  in  ages 
anterior  to  Christianity.  Every  term  employed 
therein  to  set  forth  the  relation  of  Jesus  to  the 
universe,  the  cosmic  aspects  of  Christian  truth, 
was  fashioned  before  Christianity,  by  the  philoso- 
phers of  Greece  and  of  the  East.  Every  word 
thereof  has  been  coined  in  the  mints  of  ancient 
philosophy,  centuries  before  the  age  of  Jesus. 
The  Christian  Fathers  found  these  words  ready 
fashioned,  these  picture  words  ready  drawn  to 
use.  They  could  not  have  invented  new  terms. 
They  used  the  old  terms,  to  set  forth  the  new 
thought — making  the  old  terms  grow  larger,   to 


114  Catholicity 

cover  the  larger  new  thought.  The  philosophy 
that  is  therein  represented,  is  the  ancient,  human, 
mystic,  poetic,  imaginative,  spiritual  philosophy 
of  the  universe. 

The  Christian  Church  has  held  a  symbol  of 
the  mystery  of  the  nature  of  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Being — the  most  ineffable  and  transcen- 
dent of  all  mysteries — the  dogma  of  the  Trinity. 
Is  this  distinctly  Christian?  On  the  contrary, 
its  ancestry  is  unmistakably  pagan.  The  curious 
may  ponder  over  various  ancient  Jewish  symbolic 
representations  of  the  Trinity,  which  might  well 
enough  serve  for  the  decoration  of  our  Christian 
Churches.  Greece  was  not  without  its  parallel 
imaginations.  Egypt  rejoiced  in  this  doctrine. 
At  the  summit  of  its  Pantheon  of  divinities  was 
the  mystic  triad — Osiris,  Isis  and  Horus.  The 
device  familiar  to  students  of  Egyptian  antiqui- 
ties— a  winged  disc  with  a  serpent  proceeding 
from  the  disc — was  the  art-symbol  of  the  threefold 
nature  of  Deity.  The  dark  disc  represented  God 
the  unknown  as  the  source  of  all  things;  the  ser- 
pent stood  for  the  divine  wisdom,  the  emanation 
of  the  unseen  God,  and  the  wings  pictured  the 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       115 

brooding  and  protecting  care  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 
Chaldea  had  a  similar  symbol.  The  mysterious 
source  of  all  things  was  Ilu.  His  first  three  exte- 
rior and  visible  manifestations  composed  a  triad, 
at  the  summit  of  the  hierarchy  of  gods:  Anu,  the 
primordial  chaos;  Hea,  the  intelligence,  or,  as  we 
might  say,  the  Word  which  animated  nature  and 
made  it  fertile,  which  penetrated  the  universe, 
directed  and  inspired  it  with  life;  and  Bel,  the 
demi-urgus,  a  ruler  of  the  organized  universe. 
India,  most  venerable  of  all  civilizations,  had  the 
same  symbol.  Every  one  knows  of  the  sacred 
syllable  repeated  by  the  Brahmins  as  the  most 
mystic  act  of  worship — aum.  This,  among  the 
initiates,  was  written  as  the  points  of  a  triangle, 
each  sacred  letter  standing  for  one  of  the  three- 
fold manifestations  of  deity — thus: 


A 

Creation. 

u 

Preservation. 

M 
Transformation 

The  popular  form  of  Brahminism  recognized  the 
divine  triad,  Brahma,  Vishnu  and  Siva,  separate 


ii6  Catholicity 

gods  to  the  unenlightened  masses,  but  to  the 
instructed  man  only  the  persons  or  personcB,  or 
masks  or  forms  of  the  mysterious  triunity,  God 
the  Creator,  the  Preserver,  the  Destroyer  or 
Transformer.  "The  number  three  forms  your 
essence." 

It  is  needless  to  refer  to  other  mental  symbols 
of  Christianity  for  illustration  of  the  fact  that  our 
Christian  thought  is  older  far  than  Christianity, 
that  it  was  pagan  before  it  became  Christian.  Dr. 
Lundy  shows  how  each  separate  article  of  the 
Apostles'  Creed  finds  artistic  illustration  in  the 
catacombs  of  primitive  Christianity,  and  in  the 
far  earlier  symbolism  of  Greece  and  Rome  from 
which  the  first  Christians  naturally  drew  their 
conceptions.  In  his  pages  we  realize  the  fact  that 
our  Christian  symbolism,  artistic  and  intellectual, 
is  in  reality  the  symbolism  of  humanity. 

Such  being  the  facts  concerning  our  Christian 
symbolism,  artistic  and  intellectual,  what  con- 
clusion are  we  to  draw  from  them? 

These  facts  dispose  once  and  forever,  in  candid 
minds,  of  all  purely  priestly  claims  of  ecclesiasti- 
cism — its  claims  to  a  monopoly  of  magical  and 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       117 

miraculous  rites,  and  to  the  possession  of  an  oracle 
for  the  transmission  of  infallible  and  authoritative 
dogmas.  A  baptism  in  which  children  are  not 
figuratively  but  really  born  again  into  a  higher 
spiritual  life;  a  mass  in  which  the  faithful  eat 
of  the  very  body  and  blood  of  the  Son  of  God; 
a  confessional  in  which  the  penitent  pours  out  his 
tale  of  shame  as  into  the  ears  of  God,  receiving  as 
from  the  lips  of  the  Most  High  assurance  of  par- 
don; priests  clothed  with  power  to  work  such 
miracles,  holding  even  the  keys  to  heaven  and 
hell;  a  Church  commissioned  and  empowered  to 
fashion  in  final  forms  the  thought  of  man  concern- 
ing the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Mysteries;  placed 
in  the  world  to  impose  those  forms  of  belief  upon 
the  reason  and  the  conscience  of  man;  holding 
the  human  intellect  by  its  apron  strings  so  that 
man  may  not  question  apart  from  its  permission, 
acknowledge  truth  which  it  does  not  sanction,  or 
think  to  know  aught  which  it  does  not  reveal — 
such  marvels  are  no  longer  to  be  received  by  him 
who  sees  these  institutions  and  beliefs  flowering 
out  from  the  roots  of  paganism,  the  Church  itself 
no  miracle,  but  a  natural  evolution. 


ii8  Catholicity 

To  reasonable  men  there  is  but  one  reasonable 
conclusion.  The  priestly  claims  of.  Christianity 
are  as  valid  as  the  priestly  claims  of  Buddhism 
or  of  any  other  "ism."  Men  who  borrow  their 
rites  and  dogmas  must  not  take  on  airs  as  of  spirit- 
ual millionaires.  I  grieve  ever  to  waste  a  word 
over  the  follies  and  wrongs  of  such  a  fossil  of  reli- 
gion as  ecclesiasticism.  But  alas!  in  our  own 
Church  this  fossil  is  a  fetich  before  which  hosts 
of  men  are  still  bowing  in  superstitious  awe. 
Even  as  I  write  these  pages  there  comes  to  me  a 
description  of  the  astonishing  growth  in  my  native 
city  of  the  ecclesiastical  type  of  churchmanship. 
In  unctuous  eloquence  the  prosperous  piety  of  a 
great  Church  there  is  described,  in  which,  as  one 

of  the  choicest  seals  of  his  ministry,  Father 

has  lately  acquired  a  six  hundred  dollar  chasuble. 
"Pure  religion  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the 
Father"  is  then  to  wear  surplices  of  finest  lace 
embroidered  in  threads  of  gold!  This  is  the  folly 
of  ecclesiasticism,  but  its  crime  one  cannot  measure 
until  he  measures  the  turning  aside  of  the  ethical 
and  spiritual  forces  from  social  activities  to  the 
driving  of  ecclesiastical  enginery ;  until  he  measures 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       119 

the  revolt  of  the  reason  of  man  from  an  infalHble 
Church  preternaturally  formulating  impossible 
statements  of  inconceivable  mysteries.  Full- 
blown Christian  Ecclesiasticism  does  not  stop 
short  of  the  monstrous  superstition  which  the 
Hindu  priesthood  most  frankly  expressed  in  the 
famous  formula:  "All  that  exists  is  in  the  power 
of  the  gods.  The  gods  are  under  the  power  of 
magical  conjurations.  The  magical  conjurations 
are  under  the  control  of  the  Brahmins.  Hence 
the  gods  are  in  the  power  of  the  Brahmins."  And 
such  an  ecclesiasticism  is  the  ideal  of  "the  ad- 
vanced movement,"  which,  crab  -  fashion,  is 
seeking  in  the  superstitions  of  the  past  a  readjust- 
ment of  Religion. 

All  this  folly  and  crime  of  ecclesiasticism  stands 
shamed  in  the  daylight  of  history,  in  which  we 
recognize  the  natural  growth  of  the  material  and 
mental  symbolism  of  Christianity  and  thus  see 
the  natural  growth  of  the  Christian  Church  itself. 
The  true  readjustment  of  Religion  is  the  return 
through  the  religion  about  Jesus  to  the  religion  of 
Jesus.  That  men  may  be  free  to  return  to  the 
simple,  essential  religion  of  Jesus,  they  must  feel 


120  Catholicity 

the  yoke  of  ecclesiasticism  breaking  from  their 
souls;  they  must  stand  deHvered  from  the  bond- 
age to  magical  rites  and  superstitious  experiences; 
enslaved  no  longer  to  infallible  oracles;  rejoicing 
in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  hath  made  them 
free.  There  is  a  fine  old  Spartan  saying  which 
Plutarch  gives  us: 

Spartan:  "Is  it  to  thee  or  to  God  that  I  must 
confess?" 

Priest:  "God." 

Spartan:  "  Then  man  stand  back." 

Ecclesiasticism,  however,  is  not  Christianity, 
thank  God!  Facts  which  make  against  eccle- 
siasticism do  not  necessarily  make  against  Chris- 
tianity, but  on  the  contrary  may  make  for  its 
essential  claims.  Raw  "  come-outers "  will  de- 
nounce Christianity  as  a  fraud  of  the  priesthood, 
and  excoriate  the  Church  as  a  poor  imitation  of 
paganism.  They  will  wax  wrathful  over  the  folly 
of  attending  the  services  of  such  a  Church,  and 
grow  eloquent  on  the  duty  of  emancipating  one*s 
self  from  its  childish  superstitions,  and  of  living 
up  to  the  brand  new  gospel  of  three  square  meals 
a  day,  and  a  go-as-you-please  walk  over  the  course 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       121 

of  life.  Thus  a  raw  learning  may  find  such  an 
argument,  which  it  is  only  too  glad  to  use  against 
Christianity.  Sciolists  indulge  in  very  unscientific 
talk  about  this  matter. 

A  certain  weekly  of  New  York  criticized  the 
view  which  I  am  now  presenting  as  admitting 
"that  the  rites  and  at  least  a  part  of  the  doctrines 
of  the  Orthodox  Church  are  only  a  re-hash  of  those 
instituted  by  ancient  paganism."  Is  a  flower  a 
re-hash  of  the  roots?  Is  a  man  a  re-hash  of  the 
boy?  Is  our'  modern  civilization  a  re-hash  of 
the  Germanic  and  Roman  civilizations  out  of 
which  it  has  sprung  and  which  it  has  led  up  to 
a  nobler  development?  Our  age  of  science,  with 
its  general  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution, 
ought  to  have  saved  us  from  such  a  stupendous 
misconception  of  history  as  the  average  ''come- 
outer"  makes  over  such  facts  of  history.  What 
they  really  prove  is  that  Christianity  is  an 
evolution. 

As  an  evolution  Christianity  was  obliged  to 
take  up  and  carry  along  with  it  hosts  of  pagan 
imaginations  and  conceptions,  rites  and  usages, 
thoughts  and  feelings;  hoping  gradually  to  vital- 


122  Catholicity 

ize  them  and  transform  them  into  its  own  higher 
hfe.  It  is  doubtless  a  lamentable  fact,  but  it  is 
an  inevitable  one  in  any  historic  progress,  that 
compromises  have  to  be  made  between  the  higher 
and  the  lower  thought  of  humanity.  Great  men 
come  into  the  world  with  great  ideals  only  to  find 
that  they  cannot  lift  the  mass  to  their  level  at  a 
bound,  that  they  must  gradually  lead  ignorance 
and  superstition  and  selfishness  up  to  the  heights 
of  nobler  life.  If  the  ideal  cuts  loose  from  the 
actual  and  gets  out  of  sight  from  it,  it  will  be  lost 
and  the  actual  will  go  on  in  its  prosaic  level,  not 
even  seeking  to  mount  upward.  The  ideal  must 
"slow  up,"  must  not  break  its  couplings  with  the 
actual,  must  be  content  to  drag  after  it  the  dead 
weight  of  all  the  unideal  life,  if  man  is  ever  to  be 
drawn  to  the  skies. 

The  story  of  every  great  religious  movement 
has  been  one  and  the  same.  The  early  inspiration 
has  not  succeeded  in  suddenly  transforming  the 
mass  of  life;  it  has  succeeded,  however,  in  fixing 
an  ideal  toward  which  men  have  slowly  striven. 
To  keep  hold  of  that  slow  upward  striving,  the 
new  movement  has  been  obliged  to   accept  the 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       123 

average  life,  with  its  institutions  and  customs  and 
usages  and  symbols  and  notions — in  short,  to 
sink  itself  for  awhile  in  the  mass  as  the  leaven 
sinks  itself  in  the  lump  of  dough.  There  is  danger, 
of  course,  that  the  leaven  may  not  be  powerful 
enough  to  aerate  the  dough,  and  then  the  lump 
will  remain  sodden  and  the  yeast  will  have  ex- 
pended itself  in  vain.  But,  if  it  is  ever  to  leaven 
the  whole  lump,  it  must  run  the  risk.  It  may 
have  been  an  evidence  of  declining  spiritual 
power  in  the  Church,  but  none  the  less,  the  fact 
was,  as  attested  by  history,  that  as  the  Christian 
Church  organized  itself,  it  was  drawn  into  all 
manner  of  compromises,  out  of  which  at  last 
emerged  a  Christianity  which  was  Christian  in ' 
the  Head,  but  pagan  in  the  body  and  feet;  its 
higher  natures  charged  with  the  ethical  and 
spiritual  ideal  which  lived  in  Jesus,  its  lower 
natures  following  the  Master  afar  off  while  tread- 
ing in  the  ways  of  their  heathen  fathers.  Pagan- 
ism in  this  lower  sense  survived  because  the 
average  man  continued  untransformed  by  the 
ideal  of  Christ.  Paganism  still  thus  survives. 
Scratch   the  Russian  and  you  will  find  a  Tar- 


124  Catholicity 

tar.     Scratch  the  Christian  and  you  will  find  a 
pagan. 

Much  of  our  business  is  conducted  on  thoroughly 
pagan  principles.  The  statecraft  of  even  "most 
Christian  kings"  is  unblushingly  pagan.  The 
religion  of  the  uneducated  masses  is  the  supersti- 
tion of  our  heathen  ancestry,  re-baptized  with 
Christian  names.  It  is  not  that  we  have  made  no 
progress,  but  it  is  that  what  was  then  the  thought 
and  feeling  of  the  higher  men  has  become  the 
thought  and  feeling  of  the  average  men;  and  that 
what  were  then  the  intellectual  ideas  and  the 
ethical  ideals  of  the  average  men  have  been  pushed 
down  beneath  the  ascending  feet  of  humanity 
and  left  as  the  ideas  and  ideals  of  the  lowest 
classes  of  our  civilization.  The  Church  of  Rome 
is  undoubtedly  chiefly  pagan,  but  it  has  to  deal, 
for  the  most  part,  with  thoroughly  heathen  classes, 
among  whom  it  is  doing  a  needful  and  beneficent 
work ;  leaving  to  them  the  magical  rites  and  super- 
stitious beliefs  without  which  they  would  think 
that  they  had  no  religion,  while  it  gradually  edu- 
cates them  in  the  life  of  the  Master  which  in  due 
time   will   deliver  them  from   this   bondage.     If 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       125 

any  Church  is  prepared  to  justify  its  ecclesiastical 
paganism  by  confessing  that  it  ministers  to  pagan 
classes,  let  it  stand  excused  before  civilization. 
But  if  its  vaunt  is  that  it  ministers  to  the  classes 
of  culture,  let  its  shame  be  that  it  ministers  to 
them  still  as  though  they  had  not  been  led  up 
out  of  superstition. 

Christianity  was  not,  however,  wholly  a  sur- 
render to  the  lower  forms  of  paganism — it  was  a 
victory  over  them  in  which  the  conqueror  entered 
into  the  possession  of  his  conquest.  The  Church 
retained  what  pleased  it  among  the  goods  of  the 
bankrupt  ancient  religions,  turning  them  to  new 
and  higher  uses.  There  was  a  noble  paganism 
which  it  was  well  for  man  not  to  lose  and  which 
Christianity  preserved  for  him.  When  we  come 
upon  traces  of  pagan  symbolism  in  our  churches 
or  in  our  creeds,  the  reverent  man  will  not  turn 
away  from  them,  ashamed  of  their  origin.  If 
he  be  reasonable  and  reverent  together  he  will 
feel  just  as  the  American  would  feel  who  had 
suddenly  awakened  to  the  consciousness  that 
he  was  an  offshoot  of  a  venerable  and  noble 
family;    that    back    of    his    own    individual    life 


126  Catholicity 

there  was  a  mighty   ancestral  life,  stately  and 
splendid. 

It  is  a  glory  to  have  behind  us  in  our  Christian 
institutions  and  symbohsms  and  doctrines  eighteen 
centuries  of  ancestry — but  it  is  a  far  greater  glory 
to  have  behind  us  five  or  six  thousand  years  of 
traceable  spiritual  ancestry.  It  is  an  honor  to 
be  rooted  in  one  line  of  noble  religion,  to  feel  iden- 
tified with  the  aspiration  of  such  a  religion  as 
Christianity — but  it  is  a  far  greater  honor  to  be 
identified  with  humanity,  to  feel  one's  spiritual 
rootings  going  as  far  down  into  the  past  as  we 
can  trace  our  way,  and  reaching  out  through  all 
the  ramifications  of  human  life,  sucking  up  into  the 
rare  flower,  which  we  call  Christianity,  the  richest 
forces  and  sweetest  juices  of  the  soul  of  man  in 
Greece  and  Rome,  in  Egypt  and  Persia,  in  Chaldea 
and  India.  One  feels  consciously  larger  in  his 
religious  life  as  he  becomes  aware  of  the  fact  that 
he  has  grown  out  of  nothing  less  than  the  universal 
human  soul.  These  institutions  are  infinitely 
more  venerable  to  us  as  heirlooms  of  a  far  back 
antiquity  than  they  could  ever  have  been  as  the 
manufactures  of  a  Christian  Church.     The  most 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       127 

common  and  simple  symbol  of  religious  art  grows 
more  beautiful  and  sacred  as  it  gathers  around  it 
thus  the  hallowed  associations,  not  only  of  cen- 
turies, but  of  thousands  of  years.  The  most 
trivial  and  seemingly  superstitious  usage  loses  its 
offensiveness  and  becomes  an  object  of  reverent 
interest  as  we  see  generation  after  generation  of 
men  feeling  through  these  forms  after  God,  if 
haply  they  might  find  him.  We,  who  feel  ill  at 
ease  at  times  within  our  mental  symbols,  may 
pause  still  longer  before  we  rudely  tear  them 
down,  as  remembering  the  ages  that  have  housed 
their  souls  within  these  forms  of  thought.  It  is 
almost  with  a  thrill  of  reverence  that  I  look  round 
upon  these  symbols  and  remember  that,  far  back 
in  the  dim  ages  which  history  scarcely  lights,  the 
children  of  men  have  bowed  before  the  same  In- 
finite and  Eternal  Mystery  as  worshiping  through 
these  very  forms. 

There  is  a  popular  legend  in  Brittany  concern- 
ing an  imaginary  town  called  Is,  which  is  fancied 
to  have  been  engulfed  by  the  sea  in  the  ages  long 
gone  by.  If  you  hearken  to  the  tales  of  the 
weather-beaten  fishermen,  they  will  tell  you  that 


128  Catholicity 

now  and  then,  when  the  sea  is  rough,  the  spires 
of  the  churches  in  the  old  town  may  be  seen  in 
the  waves,  while  during  a  calm  their  sacred  bells, 
chiming  the  hymn  appointed  for  the  day,  lift 
a  weird  music  from  the  depths  of  the  waters. 
Thus,  in  the  calm  of  our  thought,  we  stand  by  the 
great  sea  of  life  and  from  the  depths  in  which 
civilizations  have  gone  down  and  religions  have 
been  engulfed  there  steal  upon  our  inner  ears  the 
low  strains  of  the  sweet  aspiring  spirit-voices 
which  still  haunt  our  symbols,  our  rites,  our  forms 
and  our  faiths. 

The  antiquity  of  our  Christian  symbolism  at- 
tests a  somewhat  essentially  true  and  beautiful 
in  these  ancient  forms.  Time  is  a  great  win- 
nowing fan.  It  sifts  out  with  merciless  severity 
all  that  is  unworthy.  What  survives  is  what  is 
upon  the  whole  most  worthy  to  survive.  The 
survival  of  the  fittest — this  is  the  key  to  historic 
evolution.  This  key  unlocks  the  realm  of  religion 
as  well  as  every  other  realm.  A  host  of  symbols 
have  been  fashioned  and  thrown  away;  a  multi- 
tude of  thoughts  have  been  formed  and  then 
discarded.     Man  has  grown  out  of  multitudinous 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       129 

conceptions  and  imaginations.  He  has  left  behind 
him  on  his  road  upward  the  debris  of  images  which 
he  has  laboriously  shaped  only  to  break  them  into 
pieces  when  they  have  ceased  to  be  transparent 
windows  into  the  Infinite  and  Eternal.  The  higher 
forms  of  paganism  preserved  the  symbols,  artistic 
and  mental,  which  had  thus  shown  themselves 
worthy  of  being  cherished. 

Wisdom  has  not  been  born  into  the  world  in 
our  generation.  Although  the  ancients  had  no 
telephones  and  steam  engines,  no  machine-made 
shoes  and  cotton  prints,  they  were  by  no  means 
fools.  They  thought  deeply  and  shaped  nobly 
their  polities  and  symbols  and  beliefs.  A  man 
does  not  borrow  a  tattered  and  worn  cloak.  If 
Christianity  arrayed  itself  in  the  garments  of 
paganism  it  was  because  upon  the  whole  the  higher 
paganism  had  fashioned  worthy  vestments  for 
the  soul  of  man.  The  Christian  Church  did 
wisely  in  copying  the  system  of  the  synagogue, 
as  eighteen  centuries  of  Church  life  has  well 
attested.  Why  do  we  repeat  these  familiar  de- 
vices of  sacred  art  in  our  church,  generation  after 
generation,  except  because  they  are  fitting  expres- 


130  Catholicity 

sions  of  spiritual  truths?  Why  did  the  early 
Christians  adopt  them  from  the  pagan  temples 
in  which  they  had  been  reared  except  that  they 
found  in  them  better  forms  of  thought  and  feeling 
than  any  they  could  fashion  for  themselves? 
When  you  go  down  into  the  Roman  Catacombs 
and  see  in  the  earliest  Christian  art  the  old  Grecian 
forms  of  Orpheus  and  Apollo  standing  for  Christ, 
you  feel  at  once  instinctively  the  natural  appro- 
priateness of  these  symbols.  Those  exquisitely 
ideal  conceptions  which  Grecian  art  had  given 
became  the  natural  symbols  of  him  in  whom  man 
found  the  realization  of  the  spell  of  Orpheus,  and 
the  grace  of  Apollo. 

When  I  have  ceased  to  look  upon  baptism  and 
the  eucharist  superstitiously,  have  I  then  lost 
my  reverence  for  these  sacred  heirlooms  of  the 
ages?  On  the  contrary  they  never  have  seemed 
to  me  so  natural,  so  true,  so  beautiful,  as  symbols 
of  spiritual  mysteries,  as  now  they  do.  What  more 
natural  symbol  of  spiritual  cleansing  than  baptism 
— in  its  original  form  always  immersion  in  the 
cleansing  water  of  the  stream,  from  which  man 
emerged  as  upon  a  new  life?     No  wonder  that  so 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       131 

many  different  religions  fashioned  this  natural 
symbol.  If  we  had  no  baptism  handed  down  to 
us  from  our  fathers,  and  if  we  lived  near  to  nature 
we  should  make  such  a  rite  for  ourselves.  What 
more  natural  symbol  of  the  spiritual  communion 
of  man  with  the  unseen  source  and  spring  of  his 
being  than  this  sacred  supper,  in  which  we  par- 
take of  bread  that  strengtheneth  man's  heart, 
and  wine  that  maketh  him  of  a  joyful  counte- 
nance, and  thus  outwardly  sign  to  ourselves  that 
inward  partaking  of  the  life  which  is  the  bread  of 
strength  for  man  and  the  wine  of  joy  for  his  soul! 
If  we  had  no  Supper  of  the  Lord  handed  down  to 
us  from  our  fathers,  we  should  be  constrained  to 
fashion  anew  this  beautiful  symbol  of  natural 
religion.  Only  now  this  venerable  symbol  of 
natural  religion  is  forever  hallowed  with  the  per- 
sonal association  of  him  who  reinstituted  it  as  a 
memorial  of  himself.  I  wonder  with  an  inexpres- 
sible wonder  at  the  turning  away  of  men  from  sym- 
bols which  are  thus  not  only  consecrated  by  the 
use  of  ages,  but  which  are  intrinsically  the  very 
sacraments  of  Nature.  Our  formulas  for  the 
great  mysteries  seem  to  us  often  utterly   inade- 


132  Catholicity 

quate,  and  as  shaped  by  later  ages  of  Christianity 
they  become  almost  caricatures  of  the  truths  they 
seek  to  express;  but  when  we  return  to  the  primi- 
tive symbolism  of  thought  which  early  Christian- 
ity received  as  the  heir  of  paganism,  we  find  forms 
which  are  still  full  of  meaning,  exquisite  poems  of 
spiritual  truth,  profound  parables  of  the  unspeak- 
able realities.  How  full  of  meaning  for  us  still 
is  that  old  story  of  the  Fall  found  in  our  Genesis 
any  one  may  see  for  himself  who  ponders  Haw- 
thorne's ''Marble  Faun."  We  can  as  yet  find 
no  more  fitting  expression  of  the  mystery  of  the 
Divine  Being,  at  once  the  One  and  the  Many,  than 
that  most  ancient  and  venerable  formula  of  belief 
inherited  by  Christianity  from  paganism — the 
Doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 

We  thus  gain  a  conception  of  the  true  historic 
position  of  Christianity.  It  is  no  upstart  religion 
dispossessing  the  faiths  of  antiquity — it  is  their 
child.  Their  blood  beats  in  its  veins;  their  spirit 
breathes  in  its  life.  It  is  the  heir  of  the  ages.  It 
enters  upon  the  possession  of  man's  soul  by  right 
of  lineage.  It  is  the  legitimate  successor  of  the 
religions   which,    through   ages   past,    have   held 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       i33 

sway  upon  the  earth,  and  the  great  thoughts  and 
imaginations  of  paganism  have  been  deeded  over 
to  it,  to  be  held  in  trust  for  man.  Christianity 
is  in  reality  the  flowering  out  of  paganism;  the 
philosophy  of  Plato,  the  ethical  spirit  of  Socrates, 
the  tender  and  pure  humanity  of  Virgil,  the 
heroism  of  the  Stoics — the  best  life  of  all  the  past 
coming  forth  in  it  into  new  forms.  The  true 
claim  of  Christianity  upon  our  modern  world  is, 
that  it  is  a  natural  growth  of  religion,  the  highest 
form  thus  far  reached  by  the  spiritual  aspiration 
of  mankind,  in  the  historic  evolution  of  the  race. 

Christianity  thus  takes  its  place  in  the  uni- 
versal system  of  God's  education  of  man.  The 
growth  of  the  soul  of  man  is  an  unfolding  of  the 
Spirit  of  God. 

If  the  doctrine  of  evolution  teaches  us  any- 
thing, it  teaches  us  that  true  progress  must  not 
dissever  the  present  from  the  past.  We  can 
readily  enough  fashion  in  theory  more  perfect 
social  institutions  than  those  found  in  our  civiliza- 
tion, but  society  wisely  prefers  the  slow  and  sure 
method  of  growing  our  imperfect  institutions  out 
into  higher  forms.     We  do  not  want  new  institu- 


134  Catholicity 

tions  or  new  symbols  or  new  faiths  in  religion,  but 
the  old  institutions  and  symbols  and  beliefs  de- 
veloped further.  The  plant  will  not  grow  the 
better  for  cutting  its  roots.  Man  has  not  lived 
through  the  past  for  naught.  The  past  must  lie 
beneath  the  present  as  the  foundation  of  its 
security,  the  source  of  its  life.  Christianity  to-day 
is  the  conservatism  of  religion — keeping  up  the 
connection  between  the  present  and  the  past. 

Religion  may  not  rest  in  the  present — it  must 
reach  forward  into  the  future.  It  must  be  pro- 
gressive as  well  as  conservative.  While  it  roots 
in  the  past  it  must  throw  forth  its  shoots  of  new- 
growing  life  into  the  free  air  of  heaven.  The 
past  must  not  be  a  mould  to  cramp  the  present  and 
thus  to  stifle  the  future;  it  must  simply  be  the 
ground  upon  which  we  stand  as  we  mount  upward, 
the  soil  from  which  to  draw  the  forces  of  the  life 
which  grows  ever  higher.  Christianity,  in  its 
present  form,  must  not  assume  to  be  the  final 
fashioning  of  religion;  it  must  hold  itself  plastic 
to  the  forces  which  are  growing  within  it  to- 
ward a  development  as  yet  unseen.  Max  Miiller 
says: 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       i35 

The  religion  of  the  future  will  be  the  fulfilment  of 
all  the  religions  of  the  past — the  true  religion  of  human- 
ity, that  which,  in  the  struggle  of  history,  remains  as 
the  indestructible  portion  of  all  the  so-called  false 
religions  of  mankind. 

In  so  far  as  Christianity  is  such  a  survival  of 
the  fittest  in  religion,  the  religion  of  the  future 
will  probably  prove  to  be  the  Christian  religion 
sublimated.  It  will  be  an  out-putting  from  the 
old  historic  stem  which,  in  its  turn,  has  sprung 
from  the  main  stock  of  humanity.  All  this  we 
learn  as  we  look  around  to  see  in  our  Christian 
churches  the  signs  of  the  past  in  a  present  which 
holds  the  promise  and  potency  of  the  future. 

We  thus  gain  a  yet  higher  thought.  Dr.  Lundy 
declares  the  conclusion  to  which  he  had  been  led 
by  his  study  of  the  relations  of  Christian  symbol- 
ism to  pagan  symbolism:  "Religion  is  essentially 
one  in  faith  and  practice,  under  various  modifica- 
tions, perversions,  corruptions  and  developments." 
When  the  June  rose  opens  on  the  bush,  you  know 
that  down  to  the  tiniest  rootlet  the  bush  through- 
out is  a  rosebush.  Roots  and  stock  and  stem  and 
branches  and  leaves  and  buds  are  only  the  different 


136  Catholicity 

developments  of  one  common  life.  Since  Chris- 
tianity has  blossomed  forth  from  paganism,  pa- 
ganism was  essentially  Christian.  One  sap  runs 
through  the  race.  One  blood  pulses  through 
humanity.  Religions  are  one  and  the  same  reli- 
gion in  different  stages  of  development.  The 
Christian  is  simply  the  pagan  educated  higher — 
the  pagan  was  the  child  Christian.  The  strongest 
claim  of  Christianity  is,  that  it  is  more  than 
Christian — that  it  is  human.  And  that  which  is 
essentially  human  is  really  divine. 

Let  us  then  hearken  to  the  sum  of  the  whole 
matter  in  the  admirable  counsels  of  catholicity 
which  preface  Mr.  Schermerhorn's  "Sacred  Scrip- 
tures of  the  World." 

Whosoever  doeth  the  will  of  my  father  who  is  in 
heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother,  and  my  sister,  and 
my  mother.     (Saying  of  Jesus.) 

Of  a  truth  I  perceive  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons;  but  in  every  nation  he  that  revereth  Him 
and  worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  with  Him. 
(Saying  of  the  Apostle  Peter.) 

The  catholic-minded  man  regards  all  religions  as 
embodying  the  same  truths ;  the  narrow-minded  man 
observes  only  their  differences.   (Chinese  Apothegm.) 


The  Flower  of  Paganism       i37 

Altar  flowers  are  of  many  species,  but  all  wor- 
ship is  one;  systems  of  faith  are  different,  but  God 
is  one.     (Hindu  Apothegm.) 

He  who  is  beloved  of  God  honors  every  form  of 
Religious  Faith.     (Buddhist  Scripture.) 

Have  theVeligions  of  mankind  no  common  ground  ? 
Is  there  not  everywhere  the  same  enrapturing  beauty 
beaming  forth  from  many  thousand  hidden  places? 
Broad,  indeed,  is  the  carpet  God  has  spread,  and 
beautiful  the  colors  He  has  given  it.  .  .  .  There  is 
but  one  lamp  in  this  house,  in  the  rays  of  which, 
wherever  I  look,  a  bright  assembly  meets  me.  .  .  . 
O  God!  whatever  road  I  take  joins  the  highway  that 
leads  to  Thee.     (Persian  Scriptures.) 

To  him  who  on  these  pinions  has  risen  and  soared 
away  to  the  throne  of  the  Highest,  all  religions  are 
alike;  Christians,  Moslems,  Guebers,  Jews — all  adore 
Him  in  their  several  way  and  form.  (Persian 
Apothegm.) 


V 


THE  HIDDEN   WISDOM   OF  PAGANISM— 
THE    OPEN    SECRET    OF    CHRISTIANITY 

While  yet  the  winter  holds  Nature  in  cold 
concealment,  we  know  that  before  many  weeks 
have  passed  the  lilac  bushes  will  stand  transfig- 
ured in  the  glory  of  spring.  When  those  delicate 
purple  clusters  come  forth  upon  the  common 
looking  bushes,  there  will  be  a  revelation  of  the 
inner  secret  of  the  plain,  prosaic  clumps  by  the 
side  of  the  old  farm  houses.  Every  element  en- 
tering into  the  fibers  of  the  bush  will  be  subli- 
mated in  the  flower;  the  juices  of  the  sap  will  be 
spiritualized;  the  meaning  of  roots  and  stem  and 
branch  and  bud  and  blossom  will  come  forth  into 
the  light  of  open  day.  Then  we  shall  say,  think- 
ing of  the  common  bush  of  winter:  ''There,  that 
is  what  it  was  meaning  all  along." 

History  is   an   evolution;  that   is,   an   organic 

138 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i39 

growth,  whose  earlier  and  rudimentary  stages  are 
to  be  interpreted  in  its  later  developments.  The 
secret  of  religion  in  its  wintry  periods  is  to  be 
disclosed  in  the  spring-time  of  the  spirit. 

Christianity  is  the  flower  of  paganism.  In 
this  fact  we  find  at  once  the  vindication  of  pagan- 
ism and  the  justification  of  Christianity.  There 
was  an  inner  hidden  life  of  paganism,  to  find 
which  we  have  to  go  within  the  surface,  and  scratch 
away  the  bark  of  institutions  and  symbols  and 
dogmas,  in  order  that  we  may  get  at  the  sap 
flowing  in  the  veins  of  humanity.  There  was  an 
esoteric  religion  of  the  past  veiled  behind  the  exo- 
teric forms  of  paganism;  the  religion  of  the  few 
back  of  the  religion  of  the  many ;  truth  as  fashioned 
in  the  understanding  of  the  philosophers;  life, 
as  visioned  in  the  aspirations  of  the  saints;  the 
faith  and  hope  of  the  seers;  the  mysteries  of  being 
as  read  by  the  mystics. 

There  is  an  ugly  look  about  such  a  statement; 
as  though  it  meant  that  there  was  a  conscious  and 
deliberate  purpose,  on  the  part  of  scholars  and 
priests,  to  keep  for  themselves  the  kernel  of  truth 
while  they  offered  to  the  masses  the  dry  husks. 


140  Catholicity 

Every  one  remembers  that  masterful  picture  in 
which  the  Roman  augurs  are  preparing  to  feed 
the  sacred  birds  kept  for  the  auspices,  while  they 
can  scarcely  restrain  their  convulsive  laughter 
over  the  superstitious  folly  of  the  people  to  which 
they  owe  their  own  comfortable  keeping  at  the 
expense  of  society.  Doubtless  this  picture  types 
a  fact  in  the  later  and  decadent  stages  of  many  a 
religion;  but  if  so,  the  crafty  priests  are  more  to 
be  pitied  than  the  honest  people.  I  had  rather 
be  the  most  ignorant  peasant,  creeping  into  the 
great  cathedral  with  a  superstitious  awe,  and 
counting  my  beads  in  devout  simplicity,  than  the 
cultivated  priest  who  smiles  behind  his  conscious 
mummery,  or  the  scholar  in  the  pulpit  who  repeats 
the  dogmas  in  which  he  no  longer  believes,  but 
which  he  thinks  the  people  must  needs  yet  be 
taught  to  trust. 

I  do  not  believe  that  in  any  vital  religion  there 
is  such  conscious  doubleness.  I  do  believe,  how- 
ever, that  there  is  a  necessary  esoteric  thought 
and  life  within  the  most  living  religion;  not  as  a 
designed  monopoly  of  the  elect,  but  as  the  reser- 
vation forced  upon  the  few  by  the  inability  of 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  Hi 

the  many  to  receive  the  higher  conceptions  and 
experiences. 

Do  you  mean  to  deceive  your  boy  when,  stand- 
ing by  the  window,  at  the  close  of  day,  you  say 
to  him  as  the  fiery  orb  disappears:  ''The  sun  has 
set?"  You  are  talking  to  him  like  a  Ptolemaic 
astronomer,  as  though  you  believed  in  the  obsolete 
theory  that  the  sun  is  revolving  around  the  fixed 
earth.  When  your  boy  gets  older  he  may  possibly 
accuse  you  of  fraud  in  having  been  all  the  while 
a  Copernican  astronomer,  believing  that  the  earth 
revolves  around  the  sun  while  the  sun  itself  is 
moving  in  its  majestic  march  through  the  heavens. 
Was  there  any  conscious  doubleness  or  purposed 
fraud  in  your  method  of  instructing  your  boy? 
If  you  had  tried  to  give  him  the  higher  thought 
it  would  have  been  lost  upon  him.  To  him  the 
sun  seems  to  set.  You  give  him  the  conception 
for  which  he  is  ready,  knowing  full  well  that, 
when  he  becomes  a  man,  he  will  put  away  this 
childish  thing.  Popular  notions  go  before  scien- 
tific conceptions.  The  child  can  only  see  what 
his  mind  can  mirror;  can  only  think  what  his 
vocabulary  of  thought  can  translate. 


142  Catholicity 

Imperfect  truth  is  often  better  than  perfect 
truth.  Absolutely  perfect  truth  is  not  within 
our  grasp,  out  of  the  realm  of  pure  mathematics. 
Truth  is  a  matter  of  degrees,  and  men  think  and 
believe  as  they  are  able.  To-day  what  a  contrast 
religion  presents  under  one  and  the  same  nominal 
faith!  How  little  alike  John  Henry  Newman's 
thought  of  the  Infinite  Mysteries  and  the  thought 
of  the  ignorant  servant  girl  who  comes  to  early 
mass!  The  great  cardinal  would  try  in  vain  to 
give  her  his  higher  ideas.  No  words  could  com- 
municate those  ideas  to  her  mind.  As  Emerson 
walked  smilingly  along  the  shady  streets  of  Con- 
cord of  a  Sunday  morning,  he  had  no  wish  to  shut 
himself  up  in  his  mystic  thought  of  the  Over- Soul 
— but  what  impassable  gulfs  yawned  between 
him  and  his  neighbors  wending  their  way  to  the 
orthodox  meeting-houses  to  worship  the  Jewish 
Jehovah. 

And  yet  this  is  an  age  of  general  education. 
What  then  must  have  been  the  contrasts  of 
thought  in  ages  when  the  mass  of  people  had  little 
or  no  education,  when  mind  and  conscience  were 
alike   rudimentary,    and   when   over   those   dark 


•Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i43 

valleys  towered  the  mountain  heights  on  which 
walked  the  sages  and  philosophers,  the  mystics 
and  the  saints?  How  could  Socrates  make  the 
giddy  Athenian  youths  understand  the  whispers 
of  his  daemon?  He  spoke  the  word  heard  within, 
and  they  gave  him  the  cup  of  hemlock.  How 
could  the  Buddha  communicate  to  his  fellow 
countrymen  his  rapt  experiences?  He  tried  to 
tell  them  the  things  he  had  heard  and  seen  and 
his  gospel  turned,  in  the  heavy  atmosphere  of 
the  average  man,  into  a  new  charter  for  ecclesiasti- 
cal religion,  and  the  Buddhist  Church  well-nigh 
stifled  the  Divine  Voice  in  the  rubrics  of  the  Sacred 
Order.  How  could  Jesus  interpret  to  the  dull 
ears  of  his  good  Galileans  the  secrets  of  his 
conversation  with  his  Father?  They  overheard 
once  a  voice  from  heaven  speaking  with  him. 
"The  people  therefore  that  stood  by  and  heard  it 
said  that  it  thundered ;  others  said,  an  angel  spake 
to  him." 

My  conception  of  the  inner  and  hidden  religion 
of  the  past  is  that  it  was  the  higher  thought  of  the 
philosophic  minds  upon  the  great  problems  of 
life,  the  intuitions  of  the  poet-souls,  the  solemn 


144  Catholicity 

experiences  of  the  myvStics  in  communing  with  the 
unseen  spheres,  the  pure  aspirations  of  the  saintly 
natures  whom  God  has  ever  sent  to  every  people 
to  keep  the  light  shining  and  the  fire  burning  in 
the  shrine  of  the  one  true  temple — humanity. 
Each  of  these  priests  of  Man  could  only  well 
have  spoken  at  all  as  saying : 

That  moment  that  his  face  I  see, 
I  know  the  man  that  must  hear  me; 
To  him  my  tale  I  teach. 

When  these  masters  wrote  their  works  they  must 
needs  have  been  sealed  books  to  those  who  having 
eyes  see  not.  Thus  there  must  have  grown  up 
mystic  writings  in  a  tongue  "not  understanded 
of  the  people" — through  no  fault  of  the  writers 
but  only  of  the  readers.  There  was  doubtless 
need  then  as  now  not  to  cast  pearls  before  swine; 
not  to  force  truth  on  men's  minds  when  unpre- 
pared to  receive  it;  not  to  pour  in  too  much 
light  lest  instead  of  clearer  vision  there  should  be 
blindness;  not  to  tell  rashly  of  things  that  "it 
was  not  lawful  to  utter." 

It  is  certainly  possible  that  there  were  secret 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  145 

Orders  of  Initiates,  as  many  have  imagined  and 
as  we  know  to  have  been  the  fact  to  a  certain 
extent — the  Neo-Platonists  of  Alexandria,  the 
Hierophants  of  Egypt,  the  Theodidaktoi  of  Greece, 
the  Rishis  of  India — among  whom  a  hidden  wis- 
dom was  kept  aHve  on  earth.  There  were  doubt- 
less then,  as  there  are  now,  priests  and  scholars 
who  were  selfishly  content  to  let  the  mass  of  men 
cower  beneath  the  clouds  lying  low  over  the  dark 
valleys  and  shiver  in  their  chill  mists,  while  they 
sunned  themselves  on  the  mountain  tops.  But 
where  religion  is  living  it  seeks  to  communicate 
itself.  The  spring  that  is  not  frozen  flows  forth 
to  water  the  thirsty  valleys.  The  sun  strives  to 
break  through  the  clouds  and  flood  the  earth  with 
light  and  warmth.  The  higher  thought  must 
needs  have  sought  to  speak  itself  forth,  the  higher 
life  must  inevitably  have  tried  to  vitalize  the  con- 
duct and  character  of  the  mass  of  men.  The  true 
esoteric  religion  of  antiquity  must  have  been 
ever  seeking  to  ennoble  the  beliefs  and  purify 
the  lives  of  the  people. 

Thus,   below  the  surface  of  the  conventional 
religion,  in  many  a  land  of  antiquity,  through  the 


146  Catholicity 

fragments  handed  down  from  the  past,  one  can 
often  trace  the  movement  of  this  hidden  wisdom, 
gathering  around  vSome  fit  beHef  or  institution  or 
symbol,  and  seeking  to  lift  the  faith  and  worship 
and  life  of  the  people  higher.  To  accomplish 
this  there  must  have  been  organization;  and  to 
keep  this  organization  vital  with  the  higher 
thought  and  life  there  must  have  been  in  many 
ages  a  certain  secrecy.  In  the  earlier  stages  of 
Christianity,  when  its  thoughts  were  certain  to 
be  misrepresented  and  its  ideals  sure  to  be  abused, 
when  publicity  would  have  been  quick  degradation 
and  corruption  and  would  have  brought  down  the 
persecuting  hand  of  the  State,  we  find  that  the 
young  Church  instinctively  fashioned  a  Disci- 
pline of  the  Secret ;  an  Order  whose  secrets  were 
open  only  to  the  initiate ;  whose  rites  were  Myste- 
ries at  which  none  but  the  faithful  were  admitted ; 
and  they  only  through  the  proper  watchword. 

Such  Mysteries  appear  to  have  grown  naturally 
beneath  the  surface  of  religion  in  many  ancient 
lands.  Egypt  seems  to  have  had  a  secret  cult  of 
Isis;  Mithraicism,  a  later  development  of  the 
Persian  religion,  centered  in  a  similar  organiza- 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i47 

tion;  and  Greece  had,  as  we  know,  several  Sacred 
Mysteries.  The  best  known,  the  Eleusinian 
Mysteries,  were  celebrated  annually  at  the  end  of 
summer,  about  the  15th  of  September.  Some 
ten  days  were  devoted  to  the  celebration.  Each 
day's  "services"  formed  part  of  a  progressive 
system  of  object  lessons  in  religion,  which  grew 
more  solemn  as  the  festival  proceeded.  All  who 
chose  to  come  were  admitted  to  the  celebrations 
of  the  earlier  days,  which  formed  the  Lower  Myste- 
ries, but  only  the  duly  prepared  initiates  were 
allowed  to  witness  the  mystic  splendors  of  the 
culminating  scenes.  Processions,  pageants,  sym- 
bolic rites  formed  the  ritual  for  the  inculcation 
of  the  truths  which  were  more  clearly  taught 
through  the  chanting  of  sacred  hymns,  and  the 
oracular  utterances  of  mysterious  words  which 
were  never  to  be  repeated.  The  artistic  genius 
of  Greece  was  brought  into  the  service  of  religion 
in  fashioning  this  impressive  ritual,  and  the  cele- 
bration was  in  reality  a  sacred  drama,  advancing 
through  successive  stages  toward  its  culmination 
in  the  weird  scenes  of  the  last  night  in  a  dark 
cave,  which  no  one  might  make  public,  on  fearful 


148  Catholicity 

pains  and  penalties.     Every  device  to  impress  the 
emotional  nature  seems  to  have  been  carefully 
studied,  with  a  resultant  intensity  of  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  worshipers,  such  as  has  perhaps 
never  before  or  since  been  secured  in  the  methods 
of  religion.     It  seems  probable,   also,  that  what 
are   known   now   as    "spiritualistic"    experiences 
were  not  lacking  in  the  later  stages  of  the  cele- 
bration, and  that,  in  the  darkness  of  midnight 
amid  the  hush  of  awe,  visions  appeared  to  the 
initiates  and  the  unseen  world  seemed  to  open 
upon  them.     But  through  all  the  studied  pomp 
of  this  Grecian  sacrament  and  the  eerie  experi- 
ences of  its  nocturnal  assemblies,  the  aim  of  moral 
and  religious  inspiration  was  never  lost.     How- 
ever degenerate  these  Mysteries  became  in  later 
days,  in  their  vital  period  they  were  such  true 
religious  and  moral  forces  that  even  Plato  spoke 
well  of  them.     They  kept  religion  spiritual  and 
morality  ethical  in  Greece. 

This  inner  religion  which  brooded  in  the  clois- 
tered halls  of  the  sacred  temples  in  the  Nile  valley, 
and  which  worked  for  the  reformation  of  the  popu- 
lar religion  through  the  sacraments  of  the  mid- 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i49 

night  Mysteries  in  Greece,  was  substantially  one 
and  the  same  faith  and  hope  and  aspiration,  under 
the  natural  variations  of  different  lands  and  ages. 
The  inner  spirit  of  each  living  religion  was  kindred 
with  the  inner  spirit  of  every  other  living  reli- 
gion. As  the  life  mounted  toward  the  bud,  the 
same  processes  took  place,  the  same  formations 
ensued.  When  the  flower  came  forth,  it  was  the 
blossoming  of  every  bud  on  every  bough  of  the 
human  tree.  Christianity  is  thus  the  fulfilling 
of  this  hidden  wisdom  of  antiquity.  The  highest 
truths  of  the  past  form  its  faith,  the  loftiest  aspira- 
tions of  the  past  breathed  in  its  life.  Christianity 
is  the  open  secret  of  antiquity. 

What  then  were  the  essential  beliefs  and  aspira- 
tions which  were  shrined  in  this  esoteric  religion 
of  antiquity? 

First  of  all,  the  unity  of  God.  The  popular 
religion  of  all  forms  of  paganism  was  polytheistic. 
The  average  man  saw  in  the  manifold  forces  of 
Nature  so  many  different  Divine  Powers.  He 
worshiped  as  many  gods  as  he  seemed  to  see  work- 
ing in  Creation.  The  higher  thought  of  antiquity 
saw  these  various  powers  of  Nature  to  be  but  forms 


150  Catholicity 

of  One  Infinite  and  Eternal  Force ;  the  gods  them- 
selves as  only  personifications  of  the  attributes 
and  relationships  of  One  Divine  Being.  The 
great  religions  of  antiquity,  in  the  persons  of  their 
highest  representatives,  tended  toward  this  thought 
of  the  Unity  of  God;  sometimes  reaching  it  in  a 
clear  and  definite  Theism,  and  again  confusing  it 
in  a  vague  and  misty  Pantheism. 

In  the  Sacred  Books  of  India  we  may  read: 
"There  is  One  Supreme  Mind  which  transcends 
all  other  intelligences.  It  pervades  the  system  of 
worlds  and  is  yet  infinitely  beyond  them.  He 
exists  by  himself;  He  is  All  in  all.  .  .  .  One 
Living  and  True  God."  The  Buddhist  Scriptures 
which  are  popularly  supposed  to  be  atheistic,  thus 
speak:  "0  Thou  Eternal  One,  Thou  Perfection 
of  Time,  Thou  Truest  Truth,  Thou  Changeless 
Essence  of  Change,  Thou  Most  Excellent  Radiance 
of  Mercy,  I  take  refuge  in  Thee."  A  papyrus  from 
one  of  the  Egyptian  tombs  contains  this  sublime 
invocation:  "Hail  to  Thee,  O  Ptah-tanen,  great 
God  who  concealeth  his  form.  .  .  .  The  Father 
of  all  fathers  and  of  all  gods.  .  .  .  Watcher 
who  traversest  the  endless  ages  of  Eternity.  .  .  . 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  151 

O  God,  architect  of  the  world,  Thou  art  with- 
out a  father,  begotten  by  Thine  own  becoming; 
Thou  art  without  a  mother,  being  born  through 
repetition  of  Thyself.  .  .  .  Heaven  and  earth 
obey  the  commands  which  Thou  hast  given ;  they 
travel  by  the  road  which  thou  hast  laid  down 
for  them.  .  .  .  Thou  resteth,  and  it  is  night; 
when  Thine  eyes  shine  forth  we  are  illuminated." 
Greece  quite  clearly  reached  this  vision  of  One 
God.  "There  is  One  Eternal  God,  the  Cause  of 
all  things.  He  is  the  Divine  Mind,  the  Infinite 
Wisdom;  He  brought  Matter  out  of  chaos  into 
Order,  and  produced  the  world  we  see.  .  .  . 
There  is  One  Supreme  Intelligence,  who  acts  with 
order,  proportioned  and  designed;  the  Source  of 
all  that  is  good  and  best."  The  famous  Hymn 
of  Cleanthes  is  a  fine  expression  of  the  lofty  Theism 
of  Greece.  From  our  schoolboy  days  we  remem- 
ber that  immortal  passage  of  Virgil  that  expresses 
so  clearly  the  Theism  which  Rome  had  learned  of 
Greece : 

One  Life  through  all  the  immense  creation  runs, 

One  Spirit  is  the  moon's,  the  sea's,  the  sun's; 

All  forms  in  the  air  that  fly,  on  the  earth  that  creep, 


152  Catholicity 

And  the  unknown  nameless  monsters  of  the  deep — 
Each  breathing  thing  obeys  one  Mind's  control, 
And  in  all  substance  is  a  single  Soul. 

Perhaps  the  noblest  utterance  of  this  pagan 
theism  which  has  come  down  to  us  in  the  hymn 
of  one  who  is  known  to  Christians  only  as  an 
early  foe  of  Christianity,  the  so-called  ''infidel" 
Porphyry : 

O  God  ineffable,  eternal  Sire, 

Throned  on  the  whirling  spheres,  the  astral  fire, 

Hid  in  whose  heart  thy  whole  creation  lies — 

The  whole  world's  wonder  mirrored  in  thine  eyes — 

List  thou  thy  children's  voice,  who  draw  anear, 

Thou  hast  begotten  us.  Thou  too  must  hear! 

Each  life  thy  life  her  Fount,  her  Ocean  knows, 

Fed  while  it  fosters,  filling  as  it  flows; 

Wrapt  in  thy  light  the  star-set  cycles  roll, 

And  worlds  within  thee  stir  into  a  soul; 

But  stars  and  souls  shall  keep  their  watch  and  way, 

Nor  change  the  going  of  thy  lonely  day. 

Some  sons  of  thine,  our  Father,  King  of  kings. 
Rest  in  the  sheen  and  shelter  of  thy  wings — 
Some  to  strange  hearts  the  unspoken  message  bear, 
Sped  on  thy  strength  through  the  haunts  and  homes 

of  air — 
Some  where  thine  honour  dwelleth  hope  and  wait, 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i53 

Sigh  for  thy  courts  and  gather  at  thy  gate; 
These  from  afar  to  thee  their  praises  bring, 
Of  thee,  albeit  they  have  not  seen  thee,  sing; 
Of  thee  the  Father  wise,  the  Mother  mild, 
Thee  in  all  children  the  eternal  Child, 
Thee  the  first  Number  and  harmonious  Whole, 
Form  in  all  forms,  and  of  all  souls  the  Soul. 


As  touching  man,  the  hidden  wisdom  of  an- 
tiquity taught  that  he  was  born  in  the  skies,  that 
he  was  in  his  essential  nature  a  spiritual  being, 
that  he  was  destined  therefore  for  immortality, 
that  this  immortality  would  prove  the  natural 
issue  of  the  virtue  or  vice  of  earth,  that  the  expe- 
riences of  earth  were  designed  to  be  the  processes 
of  purification  through  which  man  should  free 
himself  from  evil  and  reascend  to  God.  Thus  the 
inner  secret  thought  of  paganism  answered  the 
old  questions  of  man — Whence,  What,  Whither. 
All  forms  of  mystic  thought  returned  one  answer 
to  the  question  of  man's  origin.  The  doctrine 
of  pre-existence  was  the  secret  of  all  poetico- 
philosophic  speculation.  It  took  on  fantastic 
forms  in  many  lands  and  as  such  has  by  us  been 
treated  lightly ;  but  it  was  at  heart  always  simply 


154  Catholicity 

the  spiritual  instinct  which  in  Wordsworth's  Ode 
on  Immortality  is  so  familiar  to  us  all,  the  phi- 
losophy which  in  the  Introduction  to  the  Gospel 
according  to  St.  John  is  sacred  to  us  all.  Each 
man  must  have  first  been  in  the  Divine  Thought 
before  he  is  a  fact  of  nature.  "God  thought  of 
me  and  so  I  grew."  As  the  ancients  expressed  it, 
a  ray  of  Light  proceeding  forth  from  God  has 
bodied  itself  in  matter  and  lo!  Man.  This  was 
the  intuition  which  kept  alive  in  humanity  the 
sense  of  man's  destiny.  Spirit  could  not  cease 
to  be  when  the  material  body  was  laid  away  in 
the  grave.  Man  was  immortal.  And  this  vision 
of  man's  origin  and  nature  kept  the  thought  of 
his  destiny  distinctly  ethical. 

Immortality  was  indeed  an  open  secret  in  an- 
tiquity ;  but  it  was  not  held  as  an  ethical  faith,  in 
the  common  forms  of  religion.  Bliss  was  to  be 
secured  through  the  favor  of  the  gods,  and  their 
favor  was  to  be  won  by  gifts.  Misery  was  not 
the  shadow  of  sin  but  the  cloud  that  gathered  in 
the  frowns  of  the  gods.  The  communion  which 
Greece  sought  with  the  unseen  world  was  too  com- 
monly only  the  guidance  of  the  oracles  in  the 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i55 

every-day  business  of  life.  We  may  see  a  picture 
of  the  lower  religion  of  antiquity  as  communing 
with  the  spirit  spheres  in  the  lower  ranks  of  modern 
Spiritualism,  where  men  and  women  seek  to  satisfy 
their  curiosity  with  uncanny  experiences,  gaining 
from  their  seances  a  belief  in  an  unseen  world 
which  makes  the  seen  world  no  more  earnest,  no 
more  pure. 

Back  of  all  this,  high  above  it,  there  was  shrined 
in  the  minds  of  the  sages,  and  burning  in  the  hearts 
of  the  saints,  a  faith  in  Immortality  that  was 
thoroughly  and  intensely  ethical.  From  the 
Library  which  the  Chaldean  Sargon  collected 
in  the  "City  of  Books,"  to  preserve  the  traditions 
of  the  primitive  civilization  of  Mesopotamia, 
we  draw  forth  to  the  light  of  day  one  of  the 
earliest  verses  preserved  to  us  from  the  "flood  of 
years." 

If  evil  thou  doest, 
To  the  everlasting  sea 
Thou  shalt  surely  go. 

We  can  best  judge  the  ethical  spirit  of  the  inner 
faith  of  antiquity  in  immortality  from  the  records 


15^  Catholicity 

of  the  land  where  it  blossomed  into  a  belief  of  the 
people.  From  the  folds  of  the  mummy  cloths 
wrapping  the  earthly  remains  of  the  great  dead 
of  Egypt  we  have  taken  out  fragments  of  the 
Sacred  Book  of  the  Nile  valley  which,  pieced 
together,  give  us  the  imposing  funeral  ritual 
known  as  the  Book  of  the  Dead.  Perhaps  no 
religion  of  earth  has  ever  fashioned  so  impressive 
an  ethical  symbolism  concerning  the  after-life  as 
that  which  Eg3^pt  shaped  in  this  "Book  of  the 
Dead."  No  unmeaning  pomp  and  pageantry  was 
that  of  these  Egyptian  rites,  no  fulsome  compli- 
ments to  the  departed  were  paid  by  the  officiating 
priests,  but  a  vivid  dramatic  representation  of 
the  successive  stages  of  the  Judgment  through 
which  the  dead  was  already  passing  made  the 
living  realize  intensely  that  every  man  must  give 
account  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body.  The 
tombs  of  Egypt  presented  pictorially  the  same 
visions  of  the  hereafter.  One  sees  now,  as  the 
Egyptians  saw  centuries  ago,  their  dead  standing 
before  the  goddess  Maat,  Right — Truth  and 
Justice;  or  again,  the  man's  heart  being  weighed 
in  the  balance  against  the  image  of  Maat,  in  the 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i57 

presence  of  Osiris,  while  Horus  is  watching  the 
dipping  of  the  scales. 

One  of  the  chapters  of  the  "Book  of  the  Dead," 
is  entitled:  "Book  of  Entering  into  the  Hall  of 
the  Twofold  Maat  (Right  and  Wrong) ;  the  person 
parts  from  his  sins  that  he  may  see  the  divine 
faces."  This  one  hundred  and  twenty-fifth  chap- 
ter gives  us  the  oldest  known  code  of  private  and 
public  morality.  The  dead  man  invokes  the 
Eternal  Righteousness  as  follows: 

Hail  to  thee  great  god,  lord  of  the  Two-fold  Maat. 
...  I  have  brought  you  Law,  and  subdued  for  you 
iniquity.  I  am  not  a  doer  of  fraud  and  iniquity  against 
men.  I  am  not  a  doer  of  that  which  is  crooked. 
...  I  do  not  force  a  labouring  man  to  do  more  than 
his  daily  task.  ...  I  do  not  cause  hunger;  I  do  not 
cause  weeping.  ...  I  am  not  a  falsifier  of  the  meas- 
ures in  the  temples.  ...  I  do  not  add  to  the  weight 
of  the  scale;  I  do  not  falsify  the  indicator  of  the  bal- 
ance ;  I  do  not  withhold  milk  from  the  mouth  of  the 
suckling. 

Nor  is  it  simply  the  negative,  aspect  of  morality 
which  is  thus  presented  as  the  test  of  the  life  of 
the  hereafter,  but  the  dead  man  is  represented 
as  proceeding  to  affirm  the  positive  virtues  which 


158  Catholicity 

are  to  be  his  defense  before  Maat.  On  the  monu- 
mental inscriptions  we  read  such  noble  testimo- 
nies of  conscience  in  these  ancient  pagans  as  the 
following : 

I  was  just  and  true  without  malice,  placing  God  in 
my  heart  and  quick  in  discerning  his  will.  I  have 
come  to  the  city  of  those  who  dwell  in  eternity.  I 
have  done  good  upon  earth.  ...  I  am  a  Sahu  who 
took  pleasure  in  righteousness,  conformably  with  the 
laws  of  the  tribunal  of  the  two-fold  Right. 

And  again: 

Doing  that  which  is  Right  and  hating  that  which 
is  Wrong,  I  was  bread  to  the  hungry,  water  to  the 
thirsty,  clothes  to  the  naked,  a  refuge  to  him  that  was 
in  want ;  that  which  I  did  to  him,  the  great  God  hath 
done  to  me. 

It  is  needless  to  multiply  illustrations  from  other 
religions.  This  fine  blossom  is  seen  in  the  bud  in 
the  hidden  wisdom  of  all  lands.  The  higher  thought 
and  life  in  all  religions  of  antiquity  affirmed 
less  openly  the  same  ethical  faith  as  to  the  here- 
after. It  was  to  be  the  reaping  of  the  harvest 
whose  seed  was  sown  in  the  conduct  of  life  on 
earth.     How  this  strenuous  faith  in   the  moral 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i59 

character  of  the  hereafter  was  nurtured  in  the 
souls  of  the  masters  of  antiquity,  it  is  needless 
for  us  to  inquire.  The  moral  nature  of  man  once 
quickened  and  brought  to  the  birth  becomes  the 
prophet  of  the  hereafter.  Conscience,  the  voice 
of  God  in  the  human  spirit,  is  the  revealer  of  the 
things  to  come.  The  communings  of  these  lofty 
spirits  with  the  unseen  world  taught  them  the 
secrets  which  the  duller  souls  of  their  fellows  could 
not  have  received.  Could  we  bring  to  light  the 
secret  experiences  of  the  great  souls  of  the  past, 
we  should  perhaps  discover  the  truth  which  seems 
in  our  age  almost  bursting  into  an  open  secret 
concerning  the  relation  of  the  seen  to  the  unseen 
world.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  those  mystic  experi- 
ences of  the  saintly  seers,  untranslatable  into  the 
tongue  of  the  people  without  creating  a  frightful 
danger,  fed  the  consciousness  of  the  reality  of  a 
life  beyond,  and  instructed  men  in  the  essential 
laws  of  that  life.  These  were  the  rapt  experiences, 
couched  in  the  half -revealing,  half  -  concealing 
ritual  of  the  mysteries,  which  kept  alive  in  the 
souls  of  the  common  people  a  sense  of  the  unseen 
world,  and  a  faith  that  it  is  to  bring  the  rewards 


i6o  Catholicity 

and  punishments  due  to  the  virtue  and  vice  of 
earth.     Plato  writes  in  one  place: 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  a  tradition  which  is 
firmly  believed  by  many,  and  has  been  received  from 
those  who  are  learned  in  the  mysteries;  they  say  that 
the  crime  will  be  punished  in  the  world  below. 

The  true  nature  of  earth's  experiences  followed 
from  this  interpretation  of  man's  origin,  nature 
and  destiny.  The  secret  of  the  soul  is  found 
in  the  truth  that  the  present  life  is  a  training 
for  the  future  life,  that  earth  is  a  discipline 
through  which  men  are  made  ready  by  tempta- 
tion and  trial  to  escape  hell  and  to  gain  heaven, 
so  that  the  spirit  may  be  reunited  to  God,  its 
Source,  through  the  new  birth  of  death.  Plato 
writes  in  one  place  of  the  Mysteries:  "They  re- 
deem us  from  the  pains  of  hell,  but  if  we  neglect 
them  no  one  knows  what  awaits  us."  There 
seems  to  have  been  quite  a  unanimity  among 
ancient  writers  to  the  effect  that  he  who  had 
been  initiated,  had  learned  what  would  insure  his 
happiness  hereafter.  This  salvation  in  the  future 
life,  assured  through  initiation,  was  not  however 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  i6i 

attained  by  mere  ritualistic  observances,  by  parti- 
cipation in  these  mystic  sacraments  of  paganism; 
it  was  to  be  wrought  in  the  soul  on  earth  through 
painful  purifications,  as  pictured  in  the  sacred 
symbols  which  taught  the  initiate  the  true  story 
of  the  soul. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  forms  of  these  an- 
cient Mysteries  was  that  known  as  Mithraicism. 
Little  is  known  of  this  Persian  cult  until  it  ap- 
peared in  Rome  as  a  secret  worship,  about  the 
beginning  of  the  second  century  of  our  era.  "It 
spread  so  rapidly  and  won  such  popularity  that, 
for  awhile,  it  seemed  likely  to  prove  a  serious  rival 
to  Christianity.  From  the  fragmentary  accounts 
preserved  to  us,  we  recognize  in  it  the  early  Persian 
conception  of  life  as  a  battle  between  good  and 
evil,  fashioned  into  symbolic  forms  and  shrined 
in  the  elaborate  ritual  of  a  secret  Order.  Mithras 
was  the  god  of  the  bright  heaven,  the  god  of  Light. 
In  the  natural  symbolism  of  religion,  he  was  there- 
fore the  god  of  Purity  and  Goodness.  The  strife 
between  Day  and  Night,  between  the  Light  and 
Darkness,  was  a  physical  parable  of  the  strife 
between  the  powers  of  Good  and  Evil  in  the  soul 


i62  Catholicity 

of  man.  Mithras  led  the  forces  of  purity  and 
called  men  to  the  one  great  battle  of  Cjarth  beneath 
his  standard.  Victory  in  this  battle  was  to  be 
won  only  by  sacrifice — the  sacrifice  which  Mithras 
himself  is  always  mystically  performing  in  the 
heavens  and  in  the  soul  of  man.  The  human  soul 
which  sprang  from  the  Divine  being,  as  a  ray  of 
pure  light,  and  descended  into  matter  was  again 
to  reascend  and  attain  unity  with  God  through 
prolonged  and  severe  asceticism.  Those  who 
were  initiated  in  the  mysteries  of  Mithraicism 
had  to  fast  through  a  long  probation,  enduring 
scourging  and  fasting,  and  living  in  strictest  celi- 
bacy. They  were  then  counted  as  soldiers  of 
Mithras,  and  sealed  with  his  sign  upon  their  fore- 
heads— the  mystic  sign  of  the  cross.  Before  enter- 
ing upon  each  successive  stage  of  the  Order,  the 
candidate  was  called  upon  to  participate  in  con- 
tests which  symbolized  the  everlasting  battle 
between  Light  arid  Darkness;  and,  at  the  end  of 
each  renewed  strife,  the  victor's  crown  was  placed 
upon  his  brow.  A  beautiful  natural  symbolism 
of  the  true  story  of  the  soul ! 

The   Eleusinian    Mysteries   had   much   of   the 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  163 

same  character.  The  fundamental  legend  on 
which  the  ritual  was  founded  was  "the  searching 
of  the  goddess  Ceres  for  her  daughter  Proserpine, 
her  sorrows  and  her  joys,  her  descent  into  Hades 
and  her  return  into  the  realm  of  light."  A  pure 
nature-myth  apparently.  Nature  itself,  however, 
is  a  cosmic  symbol  of  spiritual  realities,  the  story 
of  the  soul  written  as  a  hieroglyph  in  matter,  the 
principles  of  ethics  found  in  the  lower  terms  of 
physics.  Nature  itself  therefore  is  a  sacrament — 
the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  inward  and  spirit- 
ual truths.  Such  a  tale  as  that  of  this  nature- 
myth  readily  translated  itself,  in  the  minds  of 
mystics,  into  a  parable  of  man's  life;  the  fall  of 
the  pure  spirit  from  the  upper  worlds  of  light  into 
the  dark  prison-house  of  matter,  its  defilement 
therein,  its  purification  through  suffering,  the 
coming  down  of  heavenly  helpers  to  its  aid,  its 
restoration  to  the  realms  of  light,  its  re-ascent  to 
God.  This  was  the  spiritual  truth  shrined  in 
the  dramatic  ritual  of  the  Mysteries.  The  final 
stage  in  this  sacramental  drama,  according  to 
Thos.  Taylor,  pictured  the  spirit's  ''friendship 
and  interior  communion  with  God,  and  the  enjoy- 


i64  Catholicity 

ment  of  that  felicity  which  arises  from  intimate 
converse  with  divine  beings." 

From  what  we  can  gather  of  these  Mysteries, 
Eleusinian,  Mithraic,  Dionysian,  Adonian,  and 
probably  those  centering  in  the  worship  of  Isis, 
the  main  features  of  these  sacramental  rituals 
were  common  to  them  all.  The  story  of  the  soul 
was  symbolically  pictured  in  six  successive  stages, 
so  strangely  familiar  to  us,  Baptism,  Temptation, 
Passion,  Burial,  Resurrection  and  Ascension. 
The  initiate  himself,  in  the  most  solemn  scene  of 
the  mystic  drama,  was  sometimes  encoffined  as 
though  for  burial,  and  then  raised  to  new  Hfe  by 
the  hand  of  the  symbolized  God.  Or,  the  story 
of  man  was  imaged  in  the  story  of  the  god  whose 
experiences  were  followed,  until  in  hymns,  which 
formed  the  rough  drafts  of  the  very  Easter  Hymn 
which  we  still  sing,  the  worshipers  burst  forth  in 
the  joyous  acclaim  of  the  risen  god. 

These  were  the  truths  shrined  in  the  inner  reli- 
gion of  antiquity:  the  unity  of  God,  immortality 
as  the  natural  consequence  of  character  upon 
earth,  the  present  life  a  training  of  the  spiritual 
man  in  the  life  of  the  son  of  God.     In  Jesus  of 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  165 

Nazareth  this  twofold  truth  of  the  hidden  wisdom 
of  antiquity  came  forth  into  the  Hght  of  day;  the 
inner  hfe  of  roots  and  stem  stood  revealed  in  the 
glory  of  the  flower;  and  the  secret  of  paganism 
became  the  open  secret  of  Christianity.  The  one 
God  worshiped  dimly  by  antiquity  has  become 
"our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,"  seen  in  the 
face  of  the  Beloved  Son.  Immortality  has  been 
verily  brought  to  light  in  the  life  of  the  man  who 
walked  in  audible  communings  with  the  unseen 
world,  and  who  gave  the  one  needful  attestation 
of  a  hereafter  in  his  manifestation  of  himself 
after  death  from  the  spirit-sphere.  That  life  to 
come  is  seen,  through  this  open  window  of  the 
skies,  as  the  natural  issue  of  the  life  that  now  is; 
unutterably  blissful  in  its  reward  of  noble  charac- 
ter, and  solemn  beyond  the  dreams  of  superstition 
in  its  fruitage  from  vice  and  crime.  The  earth 
on  which  Jesus  lived  is  verily  the  schoolhouse  of 
the  spirit,  the  scene  of  discipline  through  which 
man  becomes  regenerate,  from  which  the  child 
of  earth  mounts  through  temptation  and  trial 
by  the  way  of  the  cross  unto  the  destiny  of  the 
Son  of  God. 


i66  Catholicity 

These  are  the  staple  truths  of  essential  Christian- 
ity, our  fundamental  faiths.  And  these  truths 
are  but  the  shadows  of  the  Christ  himself — the 
reflections  cast  in  our  consciousness  from  the  story 
of  the  Divine  Man.  Augustine  said,  long  ago, 
that  Jesus  so  lived  that  his  life  became  a  parable 
of  the  life  of  the  soul.  The  sacraments  and  doc- 
trines of  the  Christian  Church  are  but  symbols  of 
that  mystic  life  of  the  Christ,  nor  merely  as  of  the 
story  of  an  individual  who  lived  eighteen  centuries 
ago,  but  as  the  secret  read  in  a  mystic  man  of  the 
universal  story  of  the  soul.  The  Christ  is  to  be 
born  in  us  and  we  are  to  become  the  sons  of  God; 
and  then,  through  those  six  successive  stages — 
Baptism,  Temptation,  Passion,  Burial,  Resur- 
rection and  Ascension — we  are  by  the  way  of  the 
cross  to  mount  into  the  heavens  and  enjoy  the 
beatific  vision. 

How  strangely  real  becomes  the  familiar  story 
which  the  Church  brings  to  us  at  the  Lenten  time ! 
How  profoundly  true  to  human  nature  this  house- 
hold faith  in  which,  at  our  mother's  knees,  we 
learned  all  unconsciously  the  secret  of  the  ages. 
How  imperishable  this  one  common  faith  of  the 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism  167 

human  spirit!  How  immortal  this  one  constant 
rehgion  of  the  soul  of  man!  How  shallow,  in  the 
light  of  such  a  vision  of  the  hidden  history  of  man, 
the  scepticism  which  challenges  this  one  essential, 
universal,  eternal  religion  of  earth;  which,  grow- 
ing with  the  growth  of  man,  from  the  inner  roots 
of  antiquity,  has  blossomed  at  last  into  the  open 
secret  of  the  soul — the  Christ ! 

Knowing  it  not  perhaps,  we  have  entered  into 
the  heritage  of  the  fathers;  and  the  common 
belief  of  Christian  men  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  in- 
nermost faith  and  hope  and  aspiration  of  univer- 
sal humanity.  No  longer  couched  to  us  in  the 
shadowy  and  confusing  lines  of  a  nature  myth, 
but  bodied  in  the  clear,  strong,  true  outlines  of  an 
historic  character — behold  the  parable  of  the  soul ! 

Are  we  following  in  the  way  the  Fathers  trod? 
Are  we  walking  in  the  clear  light  of  god,  our  Father 
in  the  heavens?  Are  our  eyes  raised  to  the  splen- 
did vision  of  immortality?  Are  we  feeling  round 
us  the  shadows  of  the  unseen  world?  Are  we  in 
training  on  the  earth  for  that  life  beyond?  Are 
we  disciplining  our  souls  through  trial  and  temp- 
tation, and  fashioning  thus  the  manhood  which 


i68  Catholicity 

endures  beyond  the  grave?  Are  we  turning  that 
mystic  ritual  of  antiquity  into  the  severe  realities 
of  life,  and,  through  the  six  stages  of  the  regenerate 
man,  are  we  by  the  way  of  the  cross  going  toward 
the  stars?  Can  we  each  say:  "I  live,  yet  not  I, 
but  Christ  liveth  in  me." 

There  is  an  historic  poem  which  has  well  been 
called  "one  of  the  most  earnest  utterances  of  an- 
tiquity"; a  poem  which  has  a  strange  pathetic 
interest  for  us  as  the  last  voice  of  the  sacred  oracle 
of  Delphos.  As  Christianity  arose  gathering  into 
itself  the  spiritual  forces  of  the  past,  speaking  to 
men  as  with  a  fresh  voice  out  of  the  unseen  world, 
the  old  channels  of  communication  between  earth 
and  the  spirit  spheres  ceased  to  pour  forth  mes- 
sages of  counsel  and  cheer,  and  the  voice  of  the 
sacred  oracles  of  paganism  grew  dumb.  A  disciple 
of  the  great  Plotinus — one  of  the  rarest  mystics  of 
the  ages — sought  through  the  Delphian  oracle  an 
answer  to  the  question:  "Where  is  now  Plotinus' 
soul?"  The  answer  which  came,  the  last  whisper 
of  the  Oracle,  ran  thus: 

Pure  spirit — once  a  man — pure  spirits  now 
Greet  thee  rejoicing,  and  of  these  art  thou; 


Hidden  Wisdom  of  Paganism    169 

Not  vainly  was  thy  whole  soul  alway  bent, 

With  one  same  battle  and  one  same  intent, 

Through  eddying  cloud  and  earth's  bewildering  roar, 

To  win  her  bright  way  to  that  stainless  shore. 

Ay,  mid  the  salt  spume  of  this  troublous  sea, 

This  death  in  life,  this  sick  perplexity. 

Oft  on  thy  struggle  through  the  obscure  unrest 

A  revelation  opened  from  the  Blest — 

Showed  close  at  hand  the  goal  thy  hope  would  win, 

Heaven's  kingdom  round  thee  and  thy  God  within. 

So  sure  a  help  the  eternal  Guardians  gave. 

From  life's  confusion  so  were  strong  to  save. 

Upheld  thy  wandering  steps  that  sought  the  day 

And  set  them  steadfast  on  the  heavenly  way. 

Nor  quite  even  here  on  thy  broad  brows  was  shed 

The  sleep  which  shrouds  the  living,  who  are  dead; 

Once  by  God's  grace  was  from  thine  eyes  unfurled 

This  veil  that  screens  the  immense  and  whirling  world. 

Once,  while  the  spheres  round  thee  in  music  ran, 

Was  very  Beauty  manifest  to  man; 

Ah,  once  to  have  seen  her,  once  to  have  known  her 

there, 
For  speech  too  sweet,  for  earth  too  heavenly  fair! 
But  now  the  tomb  where  long  thy  soul  had  lain 
Bursts,  and  thy  tabernacle  is  rent  in  twain; 
Now  from  about  thee,  in  thy  new  home  above, 
Has  perished  all  but  life,  and  all  but  love. 
And  on  all  lives  and  on  all  loves  outpoured 
Free  grace  and  full,  a  Spirit  from  the  Lord, 
High  in  that  heaven  whose  windless  vaults  enfold 


I70  Catholicity 

Just  men  made  perfect,  and  an  age  all  gold. 
Thine  own  Pythagoras  is  with  thee  there, 
And  sacred  Plato  in  that  sacred  air, 
And  whoso  followed,  and  all  high  hearts  that  knew 
In  death's  despite  what  deathless  Love  can  do. 
To  God's  right  hand  they  have  scaled  the  starry  way- 
Pure  spirits  these,  thy  spirit  pure  as  they. 
Ah,  saint !  how  many  and  many  an  anguish  past, 
To  how  fair  haven  art  thou  come  at  last ! 
On  thy  meek  head  what  Powers  their  blessing  pour, 
Filled  full  with  life,  and  rich  for  evermore! 


VI 

RELIGION  AND  RELIGIONS 

Francis  Bacon  said:  ''Religion  being  the  chief 
bond  of  human  society,  it  is  a  happy  thing  when 
itself  is  well  contained  within  the  bond  of  unity." 

The  tree,  starting  from  a  seed,  has  unity  in  its 
source.  Growing  through  trunk  and  branches 
and  twigs  and  leaves,  it  develops  varied  forms 
and  functions,  as  expressions  of  its  life;  the  life 
which  ever  remains  one  in  the  common  sap  flowing 
through  every  part  of  the  common  organism.  The 
whole  complex  life  of  the  tree  strains  through  this 
rich  variety  towards  the  flower  and  the  fruit,  into 
which  every  member  of  the  organism  distils  its 
essential  life ;  and  lo !  there  is  again  a  oneness. 

Religion,  viewed  from  the  human  standpoint,  as 
an  expression  of  man's  spiritual  life,  is  his  effort 
for  the  adjustment  of  his  life  with  the  Cosmic 
Power;   his   thought   of   that   Power,    his   feeling 

171 


172  Catholicity 

towards  It  and  his  conduct  under  It.  Religion, 
viewed  as  the  Hfe  of  the  Cosmic  Power  manifesting 
itself  in  the  life  of  man,  is  God's  self-communica- 
tion to  the  soul  of  man;  His  guidance  of  man's 
thought  into  a  knowledge  of  Himself  (theology), 
His  messages  to  the  mind  of  man  (revelation), 
His  stirring  of  man's  feelings  into  aspiration  for 
the  divine  life  (inspiration),  His  direction  of  man's 
conduct  into  character  (ethics).  In  either  aspect 
religion  is  one  in  its  source,  its  inner  nature,  its 
end  and  aim;  one  in  the  oneness  of  our  human 
nature,  the  oneness  of  the  divine  nature,  the 
oneness  together  of  these  natures  of  God  and  man. 
But,  as  an  expression  of  the  life  of  man  who  is 
himself  in  a  process  of  growth,  and  as  an  expres- 
sion of  the  life  of  God  who  is  amid  the  processes 
of  self-unfolding,  religion  must,  between  the  seed 
and  the  flower,  differentiate  itself  into  the  rich 
variety  of  forms  and  functionings  which  we  behold 
in  the  manifold  religions  of  earth;  differing  in  its 
phases  with  the  different  stages  of  man's  growth, 
the  different  environments  of  the  many  lands  of 
earth,  the  different  civilizations  of  history.  Each 
of   these   religions,    however,    proves   itself   to   a 


Religion  and  Religions         i73 

scientific  study  an  expression  of  some  necessary 
phase  of  religion;  each  subserves  a  use  in  the 
evolution  of  the  fruitioning  religion  of  humanity; 
each  will  find  its  permanent  value  preserved  and 
its  transient  uses  discarded  in  the  attained  unity 
of  the  flowering  soul  of  man. 

There  can  be  no  dispute  concerning  the  one- 
ness of  the  source  of  religion,  viewed  either  in  its 
human  or  its  divine  aspect.  My  aim  is  to  sug- 
gest hints  of  the  essential  unity  of  religion  even 
now  underlying '  all  religions,  and  the  ultimate 
oneness  toward  which  all  religions  are  forth- 
reaching. 

The  religions  of  Christendom  resolve  themselves 
into  varieties  of  the  one  Christian  Religion.  Be- 
tween the  most  uncommon  of  the  sects  of  the 
Western  world  there  is  found  that  which  Dean 
Stanley  was  wont  to  call  our  "common  Chris- 
tianity"— the  essential  Christian  elements.  This 
is  to  be  seen  alike  in  the  Institutions,  the  Worships, 
the  Beliefs  and  the  Life  of  Christendom. 

What  is  true  between  the  different  churches  of 
Christianity  is  true  also  between  Christianity  and 
other  religions.     Is  man  one  in  nature  the  world 


174  Catholicity 

over;  the  human  race,  despite  all  its  vast  variations, 
one  genus  homo;  the  blood  coursing  in  the  veins 
of  Asiatics,  Europeans,  Africans  and  Americans 
the  same  sacred  ichor — as  by  all  our  scientific 
research  is  proving  to  be  the  fact?  Then  is  real 
religion  one,  wherever,  in  the  differing  religions  of 
earth,  the  soul  of  man,  seeking  to  adjust  itself 
to  its  cosmic  relationships — to  know  its  cosmic 
source,  to  obey  its  cosmic  law,  to  reach  its  cosmic 
goal — looks  up  to  God  in  hope  and  trust,  looks  out 
to  man  in  love.  The  religions  of  men  are  many; 
the  religion  of  man  is  one.  Vary  as  religions  may 
and  must  under  varying  environments  and  heredi- 
ties, through  the  varying  temperaments  of  differ- 
ent races  and  the  varying  stages  of  the  growth  of 
man;  emphasizing,  as  each  must  needs  do,  the 
peculiar  phase  of  the  divine  life  imaged  in  each  of 
these  differing  human  mirrors;  marked,  as  each 
necessarily  is,  by  the  errors  which  are  the  shadows 
of  these  partial  truths,  yet  are  all  but  variations 
of  the  one  true  religion,  the  life  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man. 

So  we  find  that  the  Institutions  and  Worships, 
the  Beliefs  and  the  Life  which  are  common  to  the 


Religion  and  Religions         i75 

different  Christian  churches,  are  common,  also, 
to  the  different  reHgions  of  humanity.  Epito- 
mizing our  findings  under  these  four  heads,  we 
have  the  following  premises  for  our  argument  for 
catholicity : 

Religion  develops  the  same  great  Institutions  in 
different  lands  and  ages,  which  the  varying  reU- 
gions  of  men  vary  indefinitely. 

The  Church,  spelled  with  a  capital  C,  was  an 
institution  of  Chaldea,  India  and  Egypt,  mil- 
lenniums ago,  as  it  is  of  Italy  and  England  and 
America,  to-day.  The  Buddhist  felt  toward  his 
"order"  much  as  the  Romanist  feels  towards  his 
church.  A  sacred  ministry,  a  class  of  men  set 
apart  for  the  divine  offices  of  religion,  would  have 
been  found  of  old  in  Babylon  and  Thebes,  as  it 
is  found  now  in  Paris  and  London.  The  Pagan 
Temple  was  the  Christian  Basilica  and  Cathedral, 
baptized  with  another  name.  The  altar  stood  in 
the  sacred  spot  of  the  heathen  temple,  as  it  stands 
in  the  holy  place  of  the  Christian  minster.  Mon- 
asticism  developed  in  the  East  long  before  it  arose 
in  the  West.  Monks  and  nuns  and  hermits  would 
have  been  found  along  the  Nile  valley  ages  before 


176  Catholicity 

Christendom  poured  its  host  of  sad-souled  ascetics 
up  the  sacred  river,  peopling  the  hills  for  thou- 
sands of  miles.  A  solution  of  the  problem  finds 
in  these  resemblances  hints  of  the  oneness  of 
religion,  generating  the  same  sacred  institutions 
among  different  religions. 

The  natural  symbolism  of  washing  had  sug- 
gested itself  to  pious  souls  of  many  lands,  and 
other  religions  than  Christianity  had  their  own 
sacred  lustrations.  The  distinctive  form  of  sacred 
washing  which  Christianity  inherits  from  the 
Jewish  John  had  grown  into  use  in  widely  differing 
religions,  as  a  rite  of  initiation  into  the  divine  life, 
the  symbol  of  renunciation  of  the  past,  the  sign 
of  self -purification,  the  sacrament  of  the  divine 
forgiveness  of  sins.  India  had  its  well  recognized 
baptism.  Dean  Alford's  noble  baptismal  hymn 
might  have  been  sung  over  the  confessors  of  the 
faith  by  the  Ganges,  as  by  the  Thames.  Mith- 
raicism  had  a  similar  ceremony,  as  had  also  the 
mysteries  of  Greece  and  of  other  lands.  The 
Christian  Church  holds  its  prized  baptism  as  a 
trustee  for  humanity,  whose  sacred  possession  it 
is — the   sacrament   for   the   opening   of   the   one 


Religion  and  Religions         ^11 

spiritual  life  of  the  children  of  the  one  God  in  all 
lands  and  under  all  religions. 

The  Lord's  Supper,  by  general  tradition  in- 
stituted by  Jesus  himself,  was  an  outgrowth  of  the 
Jewish  Passover  Supper.  As  it  is  observed  in 
the  two  greatest  churches  of  Christendom,  it 
is  far  from  the  original  institution,  the  simple 
memorial  meal  of  Jesus;  far,  also,  from  the  early 
Christian  rite,  the  love-feast  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity. And  the  difference  between  the  mass  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  and  the  eucharist  of  the 
Greek  Church,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  love-feast 
of  primitive  Christianity  and  the  memorial  meal 
of  Jesus,  on  the  other  hand,  admeasures  the  in- 
flowings from  the  surrounding  pagan  environ- 
ment of  early  Christianity. 

The  ancestry  of  the  Mass  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Mysteries  of  Mithraicism  and  Greece,  as  well  as  in 
the  Passover  of  Judaism.  It  is  the  child  of  Isis, 
as  of  Jehovah.  The  sacred  mysteries  of  different 
lands,  those  esoteric  ethical  and  spiritual  cults  so 
widely  scattered  among  the  religions  of  antiquity, 
observed  a  sacred  meal  as  a  symbol  of  man's 
communion  with  God — the  outward  and  visible 


178  Catholicity 

sign  of  the  inward  and  spiritual  grace  whereby 
man  doth  partake  of  the  very  Hfe  of  God,  and 
doth  nourish  his  being  into  hoHness  by  eating  of 
the  bread  which  "cometh  down  from  heaven, "  by 
drinking  the  wine  which  "maketh  glad  the  heart 
of  man,"  whose  natural  symbols  are  in  the  wheat 
and  the  grape,  the  choicest  fruitings  of  the  in- 
dwelling life  of  nature.  Bread  and  wine  were 
distributed  to  the  worshipers  and  eaten  and 
drunk  in  reverence,  with  prayer  and  praise. 
Curiously,  again,  the  Mass  even  preserves  the 
ancient  Pagan  form  of  the  sacred  bread — the 
unleavened  wafer  still  to  be  seen  on  the  patten 
upon  the  altar. 

All  this  was  natural  and  inevitable  in  the  sacra- 
mental system  of  nature,  through  which  a  law  of 
correspondence  runs;  causing  every  form  of  life 
to  be  a  type,  a  shadow  of  a  higher  form  of  life; 
making  the  fundamental  function  of  feeding, 
whereby  life  is  conserved  and  increased,  a  symbol 
of  the  functioning  of  the  soul  for  the  maintenance 
and  development  of  spiritual  life,  the  growth  in 
grace  of  the  spirit  of  man  by  assimilating  the 
thoughts  of  the  divine  mind  and  converting  them 


Religion  and  Religions        i79 

into  character.  The  Christian  Mass  is  the  highest 
dramatization  of  the  mysteries  of  the  soul — a 
dramatization  rehearsed  centuries  ago  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Euphrates,  the  Cephissus  and  the 
Orontes.  This  is  the  glory,  not  the  shame,  of 
Christianity,  proving  it  the  flowering  forth  of  the 
various  religions  of  antiquity,  whose  best  life, 
strained  into  it,  reappears  in  it. 

In  Worship  all  religions  prove  themselves  akin. 
The  sacred  symbolisms  through  which  art  ministers 
to  worship  meet  us  in  the  temples  of  Paganism  as 
in  the  churches  of  Christendom.  The  circle,  the 
triangle  and  the  trefoil  were  graven  by  Pagan 
chisels  on  the  walls  of  the  buildings  reared  by 
religions  which  thought  of  themselves  only  as 
aliens  and  foes  one  to  the  other.  For  the  unity  of 
God,  signed  by  the  circle  and  the  triunity,  the 
oneness  in  variet}^  of  God,  signed  by  the  triangle 
and  the  trefoil,  were  truths  known  to  no  one 
religion  alone,  shared  by  all  great  religions  in  the 
same  stage  of  evolution.  The  cross,  which  forms 
the  most  sacred  symbol  of  our  Christian  churches, 
painted  above  the  altar,  shining  in  brass  from  the 
altar  itself,  flashing  from  the  top  of  the  lofty 


i8o  Catholicity 

steeple — this  same  cross  would  have  been  found 
in  the  temples  of  well-nigh  every  religion  of 
the  past,  as  its  most  sacred  symbol.  Even  the 
sacred  buildings  themselves  were  often  con- 
structed on  the  cruciform  plan.  The  sleeping- 
places  of  the  dead  were  hallowed  by  the  same  sign 
which  consecrates  our  "acres  of  God";  and  stone 
and  brass  crosses  cast  their  shadows  over  the 
graves  of  Pagans,  as  of  Christians.  The  cross 
was  to  those  heathen,  as  to  us  Christians,  the 
sacred  sign  of  life ;  of  the  life  of  man  in  the  human 
body;  of  the  life  of  man  escaping  from  the  body 
and  rising  through  death  into  immortality;  of 
human  life  accepting  the  law  of  sacrifice  under 
which  the  superior  souls  of  earth  devote  them- 
selves to  the  saving  of  their  fellows;  of  the  life  of 
God  Himself,  in  which  all  these  mysteries  of  our 
human  life  find  their  source  and  spring,  their 
ground  and  aim.  It  was  the  symbol  of  the  cosmic 
mystery  which  the  Christian  seer  beheld,  when  he 
saw  "in  the  midst  of  the  throne  as  it  were  a  lamb 
slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world";  the 
cosmic  mystery  which  the  Pagan  seers  beheld  when 
they  fashioned  that  strangest  symbol  of  antiquity. 


Religion  and  Religions        i^i 

found  in  many  a  land,  within  many  a  religion — a 
crucified  Saviour  hanging  in  the  skies;  the  truth 
now  forever  sacred  to  man,  vsince  the  supreme  Son 
of  Man  died  upon  the  cross  of  Calvary,  embody- 
ing once  for  all  the  cosmic  mystery  in  the  human 
life  divine. 

If  we  turn  to  the  inmost  heart  of  worship,  it  is 
to  find  that,  as  in  religious  symbolism,  so  in  the 
essential  life  of  the  soul,  under  the  many  religions 
of  men  there  is  one  religion  of  man.  Every 
religion,  as  it  has  grown,  has  grown  out  of  rite 
into  reverence,  out  of  ceremony  into  character, 
out  of  the  prescribed  performances  of  priestly 
piety  into  the  prayer  and  praise  which  are  the 
very  soul  of  true  worship.  Each  may  have  begun 
in  the  rituals  of  superstitious  fear  which  are 
recorded  alike  in  the  Levitical  legislation,  the 
institutions  of  Manu  and  the  ceremonial  codes 
of  Chaldea;  but  all  have  evolved  into  the  pure 
passion  of  the  soul,  forever  sacred  to  man  in  the 
litanies  of  Accadia,  the  psalms  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, the  metrical  prayers  of  the  Vedas,  the 
lofty  aspirations  of  the  Upanishads,  the  devout 
worship  of  the  hymn  of  Cleanthes  and  the  calm 


i82  Catholicity 

meditations  of  Marcus  Aurelius.  Prayer  arid 
praise  form  the  efflorescence  of  Hinduism,  Zoroas- 
trianism  and  the  many  reUgions  of  Egypt,  as  of 
Christianity.  When  the  Mohammedan  worships, 
he  kneels  upon  his  mat  and  prays,  as  does  the 
Christian.  Different  as  the  outer  forms  of  human 
prayers  may  be,  their  inner  substance  is  one — the 
desire  for  the  knowledge  of  God,  the  hunger  for 
the  life  of  God,  the  longing  for  the  forgiveness  of 
sins  and  peace  with  God,  the  realization  of  the 
oneness  of  man  with  his  source  and  spring.  To- 
day, when  we  would  enkindle  our  souls  in  public 
worship,  we  Christians  open  the  ancient  Jewish 
psalter,  and  are  fain  to  pray  and  praise  in  the 
words  written  centuries  ago  under  the  shadows  of 
the  temple  of  Zion,  or  by  the  waters  of  Babylon. 
And  when  we  Christians  would  retire  into  the 
sacred  place  of  our  being,  and,  shutting  the  door 
of  the  senses,  would  be  alone  with  God,  how  often 
do  we  find  the  priest  for  this  silent  worship  in 
some  ancient  heathen,  whose  soul-communings 
are  immortalized  in  the  poem  or  the  prayer  which 
makes  our  anthologies  of  religion  so  precious  to  us 
— the  companion  of  our  closet  proving  not  merely 


Religion  and  Religions         183 

the  Christian  Augustine  and  A  Kempis,  but  the 
Pagan  Epictetus  and  Plato. 

On  the  surface  of  the  subject,  the  Beliefs  of 
men  seem  bewildering! y  manifold,  hopelessly  dis- 
cordant. How  many  the  faiths  for  which  re- 
ligions have  fought !  How  contradictory  religious 
beliefs  one  of  another!  What  possible  ground  of 
unity  can  be  found  for  religions  as  dissimilar  as 
Hinduism,  Buddhism,  Zoroastrianism  and  the 
various  cults  of  Egypt,  of  Greece  and  of  Rome? 
Is  not  the  raison  d'etre  of  each  great  religion,  in  a 
science  of  comparative  religion,  to  be  found  in 
the  affirmation  of  some  truth  or  truths  not  held 
by  other  systems?  Must  not  each  great  religion, 
therefore,  be  dissonant  with  all  other  great  re- 
ligions; the  more  positive  its  affirmation  the  more 
strident  its  discord  in  the  Babel  voices  of  the  soul? 
Does,  then,  the  flute  or  the  vioHn  or  the  clarionet 
merely  make  a  discord  in  the  cacophony  of  the 
orchestra?  Does  not  the  master  of  music  blend 
these  variant  cries  of  the  instruments  into  a 
symphony?  "The  symphony  of  rehgions, "  Cud- 
worth's  great  word  long  prior  to  our  own  Hig- 
ginson,  is  a  phrase  as  scientifically  true  as  it  is 


1 84  Catholicity 

poetically  fine.  As  "the  golden  tides"  of  the 
music  of  the  soul  beat  around  the  throne  of  God, 
all  the  discords  of  religions  harmonize  in  the  con- 
cord of  religion,  each  truth  for  which  men  have 
struggled  finding  its  complement  in  some  other 
truth  against  which  they  have  struggled,  God  thus 
fulfilling  Himself  in  many  ways. 

But  there  is  a  unity  deeper  than  the  oneness  of 
harmony  in  the  variant  voices  of  the  soul.  All 
great  religions  pass  through  one  general  course  of 
evolution.  In  the  same  stages  of  development, 
all  alike  will  bring  forth,  as  the  same  institutions 
and  worships,  so  also  the  same  beliefs.  Arrange 
these  different  religions  synchronously,  in  respect 
to  their  evolution,  and  the  same  ideas  will  be 
found  in  all,  more  or  less  modified.  As  they 
grow,  they  grow  together;  over  all  differences  of 
environment  and  heredity,  the  forces  of  the  com- 
mon life  of  man  asserting  the  oneness  which  exists 
under  black  skins  and  yellow,  red  skins  and  white. 
In  their  higher  reaches  they  strain  towards  each 
other.  The  flowering  of  all  beliefs  is  in  one  faith 
— all  religions  seeding  down  one  religion.  So, 
beneath  the  variant  and  discordant  beliefs  of  the 


Religion  and  Religions         185 

present  the  germs  of  the  future  universal  religion 
can  even  now  be  traced.  The  Cambridge  School 
of  Platonists  divined  this  long  ago ;  but  how  could 
their  fine  voices  make  themselves  heard  against 
the  raucous  cries  of  the  age  of  Cromwell  and  Laud? 
A  generation  or  more  before  our  day,  a  few  widely 
read  but  not  scholarly  trained  thinkers  caught 
sight  of  this  same  vision,  and  laboriously  spread 
the  unwelcome  tokens  of  it  before  an  unsympa- 
thetic age ;  earning  for  themselves  the  ill  odor  which 
still  clings  to  the  names  of  Godfrey  and  Higgins 
and  their  ilk.  In  our  own  day,  the  talented  and 
conservative  Presbyter  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  a  devoted  High-Churchman  and  an  open- 
minded  student,  through  his  researches  in  sacred 
symbolism  gained  glimpses  of  this  truth ;  which  so 
fascinated  him  that  he  pursued  the  clue  found 
unwittingly  in  his  hands,  until  he  laid  before  his 
Church  the  results  of  his  studies  in  the  noble 
volume  entitled  "  Monumental  Religion. "  In  this 
epoch-marking  work,  Dr.  Lundy,  accepting  the 
Apostles'  Creed  as  the  norm  and  type  of  all  creeds, 
traced,  clause  by  clause,  the  parallelisms  which  he 
had  discovered  in  other  religions;  showing  that 


i86  Catholicity 

ever}^  article  in  this  creed  found  its  counterpart 
in  the  various  systems  of  Paganism.  As  a  conse- 
quence, this  creed  appeared,  in  a  sense  utterly 
dwarfing  the  timid  conceptions  of  the  traditional 
churchman,  a  Catholic  Creed,  a  form*  of  faith  con- 
fessed by  men  of  all  lands  and  ages — the  symbol  of 
Universal  Religion.  Dr.  Lundy  might  have  meant 
only  to  exalt  the  creed  of  Christendom;  he  suc- 
ceeded in  revealing  the  creed  of  Humanity. 

The  supreme  religious  functioning  resumes  the 
experience  of  every  lower  activity,  and  in  the  Life 
which  is  the  end  and  aim  of  institutions  and 
worships  and  beliefs,  we  see  again  that,  though 
there  are  many  religions,  there  is  one  religion. 

As  each  great  religion  evolves,  it  evolves  towards 
character  and  conduct,  confessing  that  its  heart's 
blood  is  ethical,  that  it  is  in  order  to  grow  a  soul. 
In  its  lower  and  rudimentary  forms  it  may  any- 
where be  unmoral,  or  even  immoral;  expressing 
thus  the  immature  development  of  human  nature 
in  the  land  and  age,  manifesting  the  degeneracy 
back  into  which  life  ever  tends  to  slip,  as  the 
propulsive  forces  of  evolution  for  a  period  fail; 
but,   in  its  highest  reaches,   it  is  everywhere  a 


Religion  and  Religions         187 

movement  towards  the  awed  recognition  of  God 
as  the  Power  Making  for  Righteousness,  and  to- 
wards the  attainment  of  righteousness  as  the  true 
communion  of  man  with  God.  Every  reHgion,  in 
growing,  becomes  ethical  and  spiritual.  All  re- 
ligions are  at  one  in  the  ideals  before  them,  in  the 
goal  towards  which  they  strive.  The  ethical  and 
spiritual  life,  which  is  the  common  fruitioning  of 
all  religions,  is  not  one  thing  in  one  religion  and 
another  thing  in  another  religion.  There  is  no 
real  discord  between  the  ethics  of  Buddhism  and 
Confucianism  and  the  religions  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  no  essential  difference  between  the  spirit- 
uality of  the  Hindu  and  Persian  and  the  Egyptian, 
save  as  each  naturally  shows  the  different  coloring 
of  race  and  environment  upon  the  face  of  the  same 
soul.  The  ethical  and  spiritual  life  of  all  these 
varieties  of  Paganism  is  one  and  the  same  ethical 
and  spiritual  life  which  tides  the  soul  of  the 
Christian. 

The  ideals  of  character  vary  in  varying  lands, 
but  only  as  the  refractions  of  the  same  light  falling 
in  different  angles  on  the  same  prism  will  vary. 
It  is  one  and  the  same  light  of  life  through  all  the 


i88  Catholicity 

variations  of  the  spectrum.  The  human  ideals 
are  one  everywhere.  Purity  and  Justice  and 
Truth  and  Temperance  and  Charity — these  need 
no  translation  from  the  speech  of  the  Pagan  to 
the  tongue  of  the  Christian.  There  is  no  Hindu 
purity,  no  Buddhist  renunciation,  no  Chinese 
temperance,  no  Grecian  justice,  no  Persian  truth- 
fulness. The  flora  and  fauna  of  the  human  soul 
are  one  wherever  humanity  is  found.  Every 
ethical  force  correlates  into  every  other  ethical 
force.  Goodness  knows  no  native  soil.  Virtue 
is  at  home  in  every  land.  The  Ten  Command- 
ments form  the  law  of  Egypt  and  of  Persia  as  of 
Christendom.  The  Golden  Rule  proves  the  rule 
of  Hindu  and  Chinaman,  as  of  the  Christian.  It 
waited  not  for  Jesus  to  reveal  it.  The  spirit  of  the 
Christ  had  already  revealed  it  through  Jewish  Hillel 
and  Chinese  Confucius  and  the  great  spirits  of 
well-nigh  every  land.  The  Beatitudes  exigently 
call  upon  the  Buddhist  as  upon  the  Christian, 
''Sursum  corda,*^  Saints  are  of  blood  kin  the 
world  over. 

There   is   nothing   alien    to    the   truly   devout 
Christian  in  the  devoutness  of  the  Hindu  Guru,  or 


Religion  and  Religions         189 

* 

of  the  yellow-robed  saint  of  Japan,  or  of  the  mystic 
worshiper  among  the  Iranian  mountains.  When 
the  soul  of  man  fronts  the  Infinite  and  Eternal 
Spirit,  beneath  the  bo  tree  of  India  or  amid  the 
rugged  fastnesses  of  Thibet  or  in  the  cloisters  of 
the  Christian  abbey,  it  is  one  and  the  same  God 
who  is  seen.  Wherever  we  overhear  the  com- 
munings of  a  soul  with  God,  we  hear  in  our  own 
tongue.  In  the  presence  of  the  man  of  the  spirit, 
be  his  name  what  it  may,  we  know  that  he  is 
of  our  family  and  household  of  God.  Is  it  any- 
thing to  us  that  Plotinus  just  missed  being  a 
Christian,  as  we  hearken  to  this  his  medita- 
tion? 


So  let  the  soul  that  is  not  unworthy  of  that  Vision 
contemplate  the  Great  Soul;  freed  from  deceit  and 
witchery  and  collected  into  calm.  Calmed  be  the 
body  for  her  in  that  hour,  and  the  tumult  of  the  flesh; 
ay,  all  that  is  about  her  calm;  calm  be  the  earth,  the 
sea,  the  air,  and  let  Heaven  itself  be  still.  Then  let  her 
feel  how  into  that  silent  Heaven  the  Great  Soul 
floweth  in.  .  .  .  And  so  may  man's  soul  be  sure  of 
Vision,  when  suddenly  she  is  filled  with  light;  for  this 
light  is  from  Him,  and  is  He;  and  then  surely  shall  wc 
know  His  presence,  when,  like  a  god  of  old  time,  He 


I90 :  Catholicity 

enters  into  the  house  of  one  that  calleth  Him  and 
maketh  it  full  of  light.  And  how  may  this  thing  be 
for  us?     Let  all  else  go. 

One  religion  —many  religions.  One  source  and 
spring  of  real  religion  everywhere,  in  all  ages, 
though  many  courses  through  which  it  flows; 
ontaking  different  flavors  and  colors  from  different 
soils,  and  becoming  many  different  religions;  now 
poisoning  itself  in  the  miasmic  marches  of  super- 
stitious ignorance,  now  becoming  foul  and  fetid 
from  the  discharge  into  it  of  the  cloaca  through 
which  man's  brutal  lusts  and  evil  passions  and 
cruel  hatreds  empty  themselves;  again  purifying 
itself  under  the  free  winds  of  heaven  and  beneath 
the  rays  of  that  Sun  of  Righteousness  ever  rising 
over  earth  "with  healing  in  its  wings. " 

One  inner  essence,  therefore,  within  all  the  be- 
wilderingly  variant  forms  which  religion  assumes, 
in  different  lands  and  in  different  times;  as  man 
faces  one  and  the  same  universe,  finds  one  and  the 
same  problems  to  solve,  hears  within  him  one 
and  the  same  mystic  voice  of  the  soul,  sees  behind 
him  one  and  the  same  origin,  visions  before  him 
one  and  the  same  destiny,  discerns  over  him  one 


Religion  and  Religions         191 

and  the  same  law  of  life,  recognizes  in  himself  one 
and  the  same  order  of  evolution  for  the  spiritual 
life  of  man  everywhere,  through  which  it  mounts 
by  one  and  the  same  series  of  stages,  under  all 
variations  of  race,  so  that  the  same  institutions, 
worships,  beliefs  and  life  appear  in  different 
religions  at  the  same  period  of  development. 

One  glorious  burgeoning  and  blossoming  of  re- 
ligion in  all  climes,  one  ideal  of  human  life  divine 
rising  above  the  souls  of  all  the  loftily  striving  sons 
of  men  of  every  blood,  one  secret  of  cosmic  con- 
sciousness opening  within  the  spirits  of  the  wise 
and  the  good  in  all  countries,  one  life  of  fellowship 
with  man  and  communion  with  God  as  the  end 
and  aim  of  religion  throughout  the  ages ;  in  whose 
blessedness  all  earnest  and  devout  souls,  when 
illumined,  do  recognize  each  other  as  the  children 
together  of  the  All  Father. 

This  is  the  epiphany,  or  manifestation  of  God  in 
man,  which  is  now  rising  over  our  earth;  that 
earth  on  which,  through  the  centuries,  men  have 
differed  from  each  other,  not  so  much  in  their 
politics  or  economics  as  in  their  religions;  have 
fought  each  other,  not  so  bitterly  for  the  possession 


192  Catholicity 

of  lands  and  the  control  of  trade,  as  for  the  main- 
tenance of  a  monopoly  of  religion ;  being  held  apart 
in  mutual  animosities,  persecutions  and  wars  by 
the  very  gift  of  God  which  should  have  been  their 
bond  of  peace.  Thank  God  for  the  vision  of  our 
day,  in  which,  while  we  still  stand  apart  in  our 
different  religions,  as  befits  our  different  heredi- 
ties and  environments,  our  varying  traditions  and 
temperaments,  we  know  that,  under  these  reli- 
gions many,  there  lives  one  religion — the  life  of 
God  in  the  soul  of  man. 

In  the  recognition  of  this  revelation  of  our  age — 
the  revelation  coming  to  us  at  the  hands  of  the 
suspected  angels  whom  we  call  Science,  Com- 
parative Religion,  the  Higher  Criticism  and  a  host 
of  other  spirits  of  bad  repute  in  the  heaven  of  the 
churches — in  the  recognition  of  this  revelation,  we 
become  conscious  of  the  shame  and  sin  of  the 
divisions  which  break  up  Christendom  into  sects 
and  denominations,  not  as  the  natural  groupings 
of  spiritual  affinities,  freely  interchanging  and 
co-operating  to  mutual  advantage,  but  as  the  un- 
naturally attempted  monopolizations  of  the  truth 
and  the  life  which  are  the  common  heritage  of  the 


Religion  and  Religions         i93 

children  of  God,  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 

Christ.     In  the  light  of  this  truth,  we  see  the  folly 

and  the  wickedness  of  the  standing  apart  from  one 

another  which  emphasizes  the  minor  matters  on 

which  we  differ,  rather  than  the  essential  matters 

on  which  we  are  at  one ;  which  makes  the  note  of  a 

standing  or  a  falling  church  the  possession  of  the 

accidents  rather  than  of  the  substance  of  real 

religion,  the  body,  not  the  soul,  of  the  child  of 

God ;  which  places  on  the  green  of  our  New  England 

villages  a  row  of  competing  churches,  each  one 

half -starved,   with  a  poorly  paid  parson  and  a 

poorly    equipped    plant,    and    which    turns    the 

energies  of  the  struggling  churches  of  our  great 

cities  into  all  sorts  of  wretched  devices  for  making 

both  ends  meet,  and  for  filling  the  empty  places 

in  the  needlessly  duplicated  buildings,  mechanical- 

izing,  materializing  and  mammonizing  the  religion 

ostensibly  served ;  which  leaves  the  business  world 

to  learn  the  secret  of  success  in  concentration  and 

co-operation,  reserving  for  the  supreme  institution 

of  humanity — the  Church — to  blunder  along  in 

the  obsolete  methods  of  an  outworn  civilization,  a 

survival  of  competition  in  the  age  of  the  trust. 
13 


194  Catholicity 

The  first  moral  of  the  truth  that  religions  are  many 
while  religion  is  one  should  set  our  Christian 
churches  to  pray  that  prayer  of  their  dying  master 
— "that  they  all  may  be  one";  to  pray  it  as  men 
who  can  themselves  bring  down  the  answer  from 
God,  whenever  they  will  to  know  their  oneness  in 
Him  and  to  live  it  forth. 

In  the  recognition  of  the  truth  that  there  are 
many  religions  but  one  religion,  we  open  our  eyes 
to  the  folly  and  the  crime  of  the  present  attitude 
of  Christendom  to  the  other  great  religions  of 
earth;  the  folly  and  the  crime  which  effectually 
neutralize  the  heroic  efforts  of  our  foreign  mission- 
ary work.  The  East  India  treaty  of  1813  con- 
tained the  following  paragraph,  known  as  "The 
Missionaries'  Charter."     It  reads  thus: 

Whereas  it  is  the  duty  of  this  country  (England) 
to  promote  the  interest  and  happiness  of  the  native  in- 
habitants of  the  British  dominions,  and  such  measures 
ought  to  be  adopted  as  may  tend  to  the  introduction 
among  them  of  useful  knowledge  and  of  religion  and 
moral  improvement. 

The  ''introduction  of  religion!''  There  had 
been,   then,   no  religion  in  the  land  which  had 


Religion  and  Religions         ^95 

produced  little  else  but  religions!  There  were, 
then,  no  plants  of  the  Heavenly  Father's  planting 
in  the  soil  of  India,  no  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  the 
Hindu,  no  feeling  after  God  by  his  children  in 
Bengal  and  the  Punjab,  no  graces  of  the  spirit 
grown  in  the  lives  of  the  children  of  Madras  and 
Bombay,  no  virtues  blossoming  forth  in  the  saints 
meditating  by  the  shores  of  the  Indus  and  the 
Jumna ! 

We  still  go  to  India  to  introduce  religion,  and 
then  wonder  that  we  get  no  warmer  welcome  and 
achieve  no  greater  results.  Could  we  but  go 
Ifiither  to  recognize  the  reality  of  the  religion 
growing  there  in  such  rank  fertility;  to  say  after 
Paul — "Ye  men  of  Benares,  we  perceive  that  in 
all  things  ye  are  very  religious";  to  confess  the 
truths  held  and  the  life  lived  there  as  of  God; 
humbly  to  learn  from  the  seers  of  India  what 
they  have  to  teach  us ;  and  then,  finding  them  thus 
made  ready  to  receive  from  us  what  we  have  to 
teach  them,  to  bring  to  them  the  story  of  the  Divine 
Man  whose  truth  and  life  we  hold  in  trust  for  the 
world,  bidding  them  find  in  Him  what  they  need 
of  truth,  what  they  lack  of   life — how  different 


196  Catholicity 

our  foreign  missionary  work  would  be!  The  first 
step  to  a  successful  foreign  missionary  work  is 
honestly  to  face  the  truth  of  the  topic  now  be- 
fore us,  religion  and  religions — one  religion  under 
many  religions. 

There  came  a  letter  a  while  ago  from  a  young 
minister  who  had  been  engaged  for  two  or  three 
years  in  foreign  missionary  work  in  the  East. 
It  was  a  frank  and  manly  letter,  breathing  through- 
out the  surprise  and  consternation  of  an  honest 
soul  who  had  gone  upon  his  work  believing  that 
Christianity  held  a  monopoly  of  true  religion,  and 
that  he  was  to  displace  the  false  religions  of  the 
East  by  introducing  religion;  the  confession  of  an 
honest  soul  who,  in  the  face  of  the  real  religious- 
ness of  India,  of  the  truths  held  there  and  the  life 
lived  there,  had  awakened  with  a  start  to  realize 
that  "in  every  land  he  that  feareth  God  and 
worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  of  Him";  that 
"that  was  the  true  light  which  lighteth  every 
man  coming  into  the  world";  and  that  we  who 
have  seen  the  "great  sheet  let  down  from  heaven 
are  thenceforth  to  call  nothing  common  or  un- 
clean." 


Religion  and  Religions         i97 

He  was  coming  back,  so  he  wrote,  to  take  up  the 
study  of  Sanskrit,  that  he  might  master  the  sources 
of  Hinduism  at  first  hand,  and  thus  prepare 
himself,  humbly  and  wisely,  to  go  back  with  a 
living  message  to  the  living  children  of  the  living 
God. 


VII 

THE  LIMITS  OF  RELIGIOUS  FELLOWSHIP 

An  enthusiastic  cross-country  rider  has  said 
that  the  raison  d'etre  for  fences  is  that  they  may  be 
taken  gaily,  on  the  broad  back  of  a  great  hunter, 
as  the  hounds  give  tongue  and  the  huntsman's 
horn  is  heard. 

To  a  "meet"  of  souls  we  gather,  quite  conscious 
that  in  the  world  spiritual  fences  do,  alas,  exist, 
but  joyously  feeling  that  their  truest  utility  is 
that  they  call  us  to  the  heartening  sport  of  taking 
them  easily ;  thus  to  find  the  fields  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical small  farmers  proving  the  broad  and  breezy 
commons  of  the  free  men  of  the  spirit. 

Fences  have  their  uses  in  the  world  material.  In 
the  crude  stages  of  social  evolution  they  are  needed 
to  keep  cows  out,  and  corn  in.  But  the  waste  of 
them,  the  labor  spent  on  them,  and  the  money 
sunk  in  the  ground  with  them !     In  due  process  of 

198 


Fellowship  i99 

social  evolution  a  community  arrives  at  the  stage 
where  cows  can  be  kept  off  the  public  roads;  and, 
neighbors  learning  to  get  along  without  robbing 
each  other's  hen  roosts  and  cribbing  each  other's 
cabbages,  it  seems  to  all  together  that  fences  are 
not  things  of  beauty,  and  thus  need  not  be  joy- 
lessnesses  forever; — and,  having  had  their  day, 
they  cease  to  be. 

In  the  world  spiritual  fences  doubtless  fulfill  a 
need  of  the  primitive  man.  Creeds  keep  heretical  , 
bulls  of  Bashan  out  of  the  green  pastures  of  the 
saints.  Institutions  shelter  the  grain  that  the 
sower,  going  forth  to  sow,  scatters  on  the  human 
heart — so  that  it  may  live  and  thrive. 

As  Maurice  truly  said,  a  creed  secures  the  mental 
tranquillity  in  which  the  spiritual  life  may  unfold. 
It  offers  a  crystallizing  point  around  which  the 
character  may  form.  And,  as  many  men  have 
discovered,  institutions  serve  as  the  bark,  pro- 
tecting the  sap  of  the  tree  which  the  Lord  hath 
planted.  But  fences  grow  no  crops.  No  wheat 
of  God  ripens  on  the  stone  walls  which  religion 
rears.  And  oh!  the  waste  of  them!  The  money 
squandered  on  them  that  might  have  gone  into 


200  Catholicity 

breadstuff s!  The  years  of  men  spent  in  building 
them  and  keeping  them  in  order!  Years  which 
might  have  gone  into  the  productive  labor  whereby 
two  blades  of  spiritual  grass  should  grow  where 
one  grew  before. 

And  so,  sooner  or  later,  the  time  must  come  in 
the  soul-world  when  the  folly  ol  fence-building 
must  be  seen,  when  the  waste  of  it  must  be  felt; 
and  fences  shall  fall  into  decay  that  our  fields  may 
yield  a  wider  harvest.  Sooner  or  later,  the  day 
must  dawn  when  the  enthusiasm  which  has  spent 
itself  on  the  staking  out  of  the  claims  of  rival 
religions,  and  on  the  armed  watch  over  them,  shall 
turn  into  the  sane  and  sensible  spiritual  labor  of 
a  co-operative  commonwealth  of  souls;  when  a 
common  system  of  irrigation  shall  provide  conduits 
for  the  water  of  life  flowing  forth  from  beneath  the 
throne  of  God,  so  that  the  most  arid  spot  of  our 
dead  lands,  social,  industrial  and  political,  shall 
blossom  as  the  rose. 

So  to  our  happy  work  of  taking  fences ! 

The  limits  of  religious  fellowship  are  the  limits  of 
religion.  According  to  our  conception  of  religion, 
will  be  our  conception  of  its  fellowship. 


Fellowship  201 

Religion  itself  is  a  growth.  Like  all  the  other 
phases  of  human  life,  it  is  subject  to  the  processes  of 
evolution.  It  is  ever  widening  with  the  widening 
range  of  human  life.  With  this  expansion  the 
lirriits  of  its  fellowship  expand. 

As  far  back,  perhaps,  as  we  can  trace  the  story 
of  man  religiously,  the  family  was  the  nucleating 
center  of  religion.  Religion  was  a  family  bond, 
because  it  was  a  family  rite.  Marco  Bozzaris  was 
a  favorite  hero  of  my  boyhood.  I  loved  to  declaim 
his  famous — "Strike  for  your  altars  and  your 
fires!"  Wholly  unconscious  was  I  then  of  the  in- 
teresting bit  of  history  embalmed  in  those  words. 
In  the  house  of  every  Greek  and  Roman  was  an 
altar.  On  this  altar  there  were  always  a  few 
lighted  coals.  It  was  a  sacred  obligation  for  the 
master  of  every  house  to  keep  the  fire  up,  night 
and  day.  Woe  to  the  house  where  it  was  ex- 
tinguished! The  fire  ceased  to  glow  upon  the 
altar  only  when  the  entire  family  had  perished.  An 
extinguished  hearth,  an  extinguished  family,  were 
synonymous  expressions  among  the  ancients.  It  is 
evident  that  this  duty  of  keeping  fire  always  upon 
an  altar  was  connected  with  an  ancient  belief.     It 


202  Catholicity 

was  not  permitted  to  feed  this  fire  with  every 
sort  of  wood.  Religion  distinguished  among  trees 
those  that  could  be  employed  for  this  use  from 
those  which  it  would  be  impiety  to  make  such  use 
of.  The  fire  was  something  divine.  The  family 
adored  it,  and  presented  to  it  offerings  of  what- 
ever was  believed  to  be  agreeable  to  a  god.  The 
sacred  fire  was  the  providence  of  the  family.  The 
meals  cooked  upon  it  were  sacredly  used.  They 
were  religious  rites.  Every  meal  was  then  a 
lesser  sacrament.  The  Lares  and  Penates  were 
the  gods  of  the  home.  There  was  a  "household 
church." 

As  the  religion  of  these  primitive  ages  was  exclu- 
sively domestic,  so  also  were  its  morals.  Religion 
did  not  say  to  a  man,  showing  him  another  man: 
That  is  thy  brother.  It  said  to  him:  That  is  a 
stranger.  He  cannot  participate  in  the  religious 
rites  of  thy  hearth.  He  cannot  approach  the 
tomb  of  thy  family.  He  has  other  gods  than  thine, 
and  cannot  unite  with  thee  in  a  common  prayer. 
Thy  gods  reject  his  adoration  and  regard  him  as  an 
enemy.  He  is  thy  foe  also.  In  this  religion  of  the 
hearth  man  never  supplicated  a  divinity  in  favor 


Fellowship  _  203 

of  other  men ;  he  invoked  him  only  for  himself  and 
his.  A  Greek  proverb  has  remained  as  a  memento 
of  this  ancient  isolation  of  family  prayer.  In 
Plutarch's  time  they  still  said  to  the  egotist:  You 
sacrifice  to  the  hearth.  That  is  to  say,  you 
separate  yourself  from  other  citizens;  you  have 
no  friends;  your  fellowmen  are  nothing  to  you; 
you  live  solely  for  yourself  and  yours.  This 
proverb  pointed  to  a  time  when  all  religion,  housing 
around  the  hearth,  the  horizon  of  morals  and  of 
affection,  had  not  yet  passed  beyond  the  narrow 
circle  of  the  family.  ^ 

So  with  the  wider  groupings  of  men.  When 
several  families  formed  into  a  tribe,  there  became 
a  tribal  religion,  a  tribal  god.  Jehovah  was  the 
tribal  god  of  Eeni-Israel,  the  sons  of  Israel.  He 
belonged  to  them ;  they  belonged  to  him.  All  who 
were  the  children  of  the  common  father,  Israel, 
were  brothers  one  to  the  other,  had  a  right  to 
partake  in  the  common  religion.  All  outside  the 
rites  of  the  Beni- Israel  were  aliens,  strangers  and 
enemies.  There  could  be  no  religious  fellowship 
beyond  the  religious  bond  of  the  tribe. 

'  The  Ancient  City,  Coulanger,  page  124  ff. 


204  Catholicity 

Thus,  as  the  groupings  yet  further  enlarged, 
and  the  gens  or  tribe  passed  on  into  the  city,  there 
became  a  reHgion  of  the  city.  ReHgion  was  a  civic 
function,  a  civic  bond.  Plato's  dream-city  held  its 
election  in  its  temple.  We  hold  ours  in  or  near  the 
saloon.  Religious  fellowship  was  bounded  by  the 
walls  of  the  city.     So  were  moral  obligations. 

When  cities  drew  together  into  a  state,  all  who 
were  members  of  the  same  nation  were  included  in 
the  state  religion;  had  one  and  the  same  religious 
rites  and  recognized  a  religious  fellowship. 

Outside  the  state  there  were  only  strangers, 
aliens,  enemies.  The  limits  of  religious  fellowship 
were  drawn  by  the  boundaries  of  the  nation.  Over 
the  river  which  separated  two  peoples,  no  bridge 
of  religious  sympathy  spanned.  This  may  give  us 
a  hint  as  to  that  singular  fact  of  the  apotheosis  of 
the  Roman  emperors.  The  Roman  emperor  was 
the  head  of  the  state,  and  as  such  he  was  the  crown 
of  its  religion,  its  embodiment  and  personification. 
Therefore  he  was  divine  and  to  be  worshiped. 
Therefore,  again,  to  cut  aloof  from  the  religion  of 
the  state,  to  refuse  to  worship  the  Emperor,  was  to 
pass  beyond  the  bonds  of  religious  fellowship,  and 


Fellowship  205 

so  of  social  fellowship.  Such  refusal  pronounced 
one  an  alien,  a  stranger  and  an  enemy.  This  was 
the  cause  of  the  condemnation  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians. Because  of  this  they  were  judged  to  have 
no  religion,  to  be  "atheists." 

When  Christianity  arose  upon  the  ruins  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  it  was  a  new,  world-wide  organiza- 
tion— a  new  imperial  state.  The  nations  and  races 
of  earth  were  drawn  together  into  a  new  and  higher 
unity — the  unity  of  mankind.  A  blood-bond 
was  found,  uniting  Jew  and  Gentile,  barbarian, 
Scythian,  bond  and  free.  "  God  hath  made  of  one 
blood  all  nations  that  dwell  upon  the  earth."  It 
embodied,  therefore,  a  universal  religion.  The 
limits  of  its  fellowship  should,  then,  have  been  the 
limits  of  mankind.  But  the  time  had  not  come 
for  such  a  conception  of  universal  religion.  From 
the  beginning,  the  Church  proceeded  to  divide 
itself  into  infinitesimal  sections,  schools,  parties, 
sects,  churches.  These  have  continued,  varying, 
but  ever  renewing  themselves,  down  to  the  present 
day.  There  are  no  less  than  three  hundred  and 
fifty  sects  in  Christendom.  Each  of  these  divi- 
sions of  Christianity  is  centered  around  some  one 


2o6  Catholicity 

special  feature  of  Christianity.  Here  it  is  a  belief 
which  dominates  the  mind  of  man  and  becomes 
a  synonym  for  Christianity.  There  it  is  a  rite 
which  is  deemed  to  be  the  very  essence  of  the 
Christian  religion.  A  creed  or  an  institution  is  the 
foundation  stone  of  each  sect,  each  denomination, 
each  church  of  Christendom. 

Theoretically,  there  is  no  denial  of  the  truth  that 
the  fundamentals  of  Christianity  are  beliefs  which 
are  held  in  common  among  all  Christians.  Prac- 
tically there  is  a  denial  of  this  truth.  The  very 
fact  of  the  existence  of  the  sect  implies  that  there  is 
something  more  important  than  our  "common 
Christianity,"  viz.,  our  peculiar  and  private 
Christianity.  It  is  all  very  well  to  love  and  hope 
and  believe,  but  the  prime  thing  is  to  observe  our 
ordinance,  to  maintain  our  dogma.  The  creed, 
the  institution,  becomes  unconsciously  the  domin- 
ant factor  of  our  peculiar  brand  of  Christianity. 

This  may  seem  a  hard  saying,  but  it  is  true  of  all 
of  us  alike.  I  may  speak  freely  of  my  own  church, 
— ^which,  despite  its  grave  faults,  I  well  love.  Why 
should  we  Episcopalians  separate  ourselves  from 
all  other  branches  of  Christendom,  declining  to 


Fellowship  207 

allow  their  ministens  to  officiate  in  our  pulpits  or  to 
minister  at  our  altars, — except  that  we  believe  a 
something  vital  inheres  in  the  Apostolic  order  of 
the  Church?  The  Apostolic  Succession  is  then 
essential  to  a  true  Church.  It  constitutes  the 
articulus  stantis  aut  cadentis  ecdesice — the  article 
of  a  standing  or  a  falling  church.  It  differentiates 
the  divine  organism  from  the  amorphous  societies 
falsely  called  churches.  As  with  one  church,  so 
with  all  churches — though  I  desire  not  the  in- 
vidious task  of  further  illustration. 

No  sect  realizes  this  sectarianness  of  its  belief. 
God  thus  mercifully  pardons  us  all,  arid  the  Christ 
therefore  bears  with  us  all,  sighing  again :  "  Father, 
forgive  them,  they  know  not  what  they  do ! "  But 
the  very  fact  that  we  are  separated  as  Episco- 
palians and  Baptists  and  Methodists  and  Presby- 
terians, really  affirms  that  the  one  important  thing 
in  Christianity,  according  to  our  several  concep- 
tions, is  that  which  constitutes  Episcopahanism, 
or  the  Baptist  church,  or  Presbyterianism  or  the 
Methodist  church.  The  limits  of  religion,  then, 
ought  to  be  drawn  around  the  Episcopal  church, 
the  IMethodist  church,  the  Baptist  church  or  the 


2o8  Catholicity 

Presbyterian  church.  We  may  not  naively  ask, 
as  the  child  asked  its  mother — "Is  God  a  Pres- 
byterian?" We  may  not  picture  God,  after  the 
fashion  of  certain  mediaeval  artists,  as  a  divine 
pope.  But  we  all  believe  what  comes  perilously 
close  to  such  a  childish  conception. 

What,  then,  is  religion,  as  in  the  evolution  of  the 
soul  of  man  we  now  see  it?  I  essay  no  philosophic 
definition  of  religion.  I  am  content  with  certain 
ancient  and  simple  definitions  known  to  all  "  Pure 
religion  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father  is 
this:  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their 
affliction,  and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the 
world."  "What  doth  the  Lord,  thy  God  require 
of  thee  but  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  mercy  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  thy  God?"  "Thou  shalt  love 
the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy 
soul,  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength. 
This  is  the  first  and  great  commandment.  And 
the  second  is  like  unto  it:  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself."  "Whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them." 
"Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfill  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh."     "If  we  walk  in  the  light,  as 


Fellowship  209 

he  is  in  the  Hght,  we  have  fellowship  one  with 
another,  and  the  blood  (that  is  the  life)  of  Jesus 
Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin. " 

These  are  the  venerable  and  sacred  definitions 
of  religion,  honored  by  Christendom,  however 
neglected  by  it.  By  these  definitions  of  religion, 
and  by  these  alone,  may  we  draw  the  limits  of 
religious  fellowship.  This  is  not  sentiment, 
spiritual  intuition,  spiritual  prophecy.  These 
great  words  depict  the  true  reality  of  religion. 
Wherever,  then,  is  found  a  man  living  the  Golden 
Rule,  walking  in  the  Spirit,  loving  God  and  loving 
man,  dealing  justly,  showing  mercy  and  walking 
humbly  before  God,  visiting  the  fatherless  and 
widows  in  their  affliction,  keeping  himself  un- 
spotted from  the  world;  wherever  is  found  a  man 
thus  living  ethically  and  spiritually,  there  is  found 
a  religious  man,  there  is  to  be  recognized  the 
presence  of  religion,  and  there  is  to  be  felt  the  bonds 
of  a  man, the  including  limits  of  religious  fellowship. 

Instead   of   discussing   this   theme    abstractly, 

illustrate  it  concretely,  since  religion,  after  all,  is  a 

concrete  matter,  the  life  of  the  human  soul. 

Take  the  stories  of  two  men  widely  separated 
14 


210  Catholicity 

from  each  other,  and  as  widely  separated  from  all 
who  foregather  in  America  to  discuss  Christian 
unity,  and  judge  whether  the  limits  of  our  religious 
fellowship  embrace  them. 

The  spirit  of  one  is  embodied  in  a  little  book 
entitled — "The  Practice  of  the  Presence  of  God, 
the  Best  Rule  of  the  Holy  Life. "  A  friend  reports 
him  as  speaking  thus  in  conversation  with  his 
friends: 

That  he  had  alwa3^s  been  governed  by  love  without 
selfish  views;  and  that,  having  resolved  to  make  the 
love  of  God  the  end  of  all  his  actions,  he  had  found 
reasons  to  be  well  satisfied  with  his  method.  That 
he  was  pleased  when  he  could  take  up  a  straw  from  the 
ground  for  the  love  of  God,  seeking  him  only  and 
nothing  else,  not  ev^n  his  gifts.  .  .  .  That  he  had 
long  been  troubled  in  mind  from  a  certain  belief 
that  he  should  be  damned;  that  all  the  men  in  the 
world  could  not  have  persuaded  him  to  the  contrary; 
but  that  he  had  thus  reasoned  with  himself  about  it: 
"I  engaged  in  a  religious  life  only  for  the  love  of  God, 
and  I  have  endeavored  to  act  only  for  him;  whatever 
becomes  of  me,  whether  I  be  lost  or  saved,  I  will 
always  continue  to  act  purely  for  the  love  of  God. 
I  shall  have  this  good  at  least,  that  till  death  I  shall 
have  done  all  that  is  in  me  to  love  him."  That  this 
trouble  of  mind  had  lasted  for  four  years,   during 


Fellowship 


211 


which  time  he  had  suffered  much,  but  that  at  last  he 
had  seen  that  this  trouble  arose  from  want  of  faith; 
and  that  since  then  he  had  passed  his  life  in  perfect 
liberty  and  continual  joy.  .  .  .  That  when  an 
occasion  of  practicing  some  virtue  offered,  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  God,  saying,  "Lord,  I  cannot 
do  this  unless  thou  enablest  me";  and  that  then  he 
received  strength  more  than  sufficient.  That  when 
he  had  failed  in  his  duty  he  only  confessed  his  fault 
saying  to  God,  "I  shall  never  do  otherwise,  if  you 
leave  me  to  myself.  It  is  you  who  must  hinder  my 
falling,  and  mend  what  is  amiss."  That  after  this 
he  gave  himself  no  further  uneasiness  about  it.  .  .  . 
That  with  him  the  set  times  of  prayers  were  not 
different  from  other  times;  that  he  retired  to  prayer 
according  to  the  directions  of  his  superior,  but  that 
he  did  not  want  such  retirement,  nor  ask  for  it, 
because  his  greatest  business  did  not  divert  him  from 
God.  .  .  .  That  all  bodily  mortifications  and  other 
exercises  are  useless,  except  as  they  serve  to  arrive 
at  the  union  with  God  by  love;  that  he  had  well 
considered  this  and  foimd  it  the  shortest  way  to  go 
straight  to  him  by  continual  exercise  of  love,  and 
doing  all  things  for  his  sake.  .  .  .  That  the  founda- 
tion of  the  spiritual  life  in  him  had  been  a  high  notion 
and  esteem  of  God  in  faith,  which,  when  he  had  well 
conceived,  he  had  no  other  care  at  first  but  faithfully 
to  reject  every  other  thought  that  he  might  perform 
all  his  actions  for  the  love  of  God.  That  when  some- 
times he  had  not  thought  of  God  for  a  good  while 


212  Catholicity 

he  did  not  disquiet  himself  for  it,  but,  after  having 
acknowledged  his  wretchedness  to  God,  he  returned 
to  him  with  so  much  the  greater  trust  in  him  as  he 
had  found  himself  wretched  through  forgetting  him. 
.  That  there  needed  neither  art  nor  science  for 
going  to  God,  but  only  a  heart  resolutely  determined 
to  apply  itself  to  nothing  but  him,  or  for  his  sake,  and 
to  love  him  only.  That  all  consists  in  one  hearty 
renunciation  of  everything  which  we  are  sensible 
does  not  lead  to  God;  that  we  might  accustom  our- 
selves to  continual  conversation  with  him  with 
freedom  and  in  simplicity.  .  .  .  That  the  whole  sub- 
stance of  religion  was  faith,  hope  and  charity,  by  the 
practice  of  which  we  become  united  to  the  will  of 
God;  that  all  besides  is  indifferent,  and  to  be  used  as  a 
means  that  we  may  arrive  at  our  end  and  be  swallowed 
up  therein  by  faith  and  charity. 

His  example  was  a  stronger  inducement  than  any 
argtiments  he  could  propose.  His  very  countenance 
was  edifying,  such  a  sweet  and  calm  devotion  ap- 
pearing in  it  as  could  not  but  affect  the  beholders. 
And  it  was  observed  that  in  the  greatest  hurry  of 
business  in  the  kitchen  (he  was  a  cook)  he  still 
preserved  his  recollection  and  heavenly-mindedness. 
He  was  never  hasty,  nor  loitering,  but  did  each 
thing  in  its  season,  with  an  even,  uninterrupted  com- 
posure and  tranquillity  of  spirit.  "The  time  of  busi- 
ness, "  said  he,  *'  does  not  with  me  differ  from  the  time 
of  prayer;  and  in  the  noise  and  clatter  of  my  kitchen, 
when  several  persons  are  at  the  same  time  calling 


Fellowship  213 

for  different  things,  I  possess  God  in  as  great  tran- 
quillity as  if  I  were  on  my  knees  at  the  blessed 
sacrament. " 

These  quotations  are  taken  from  the  records  of 
one  Nicholas  Herman,  of  Lorraine,  a  lowly  and 
unlettered  man,  who,  after  having  been  a  footman 
and  soldier,  was  admitted  a  lay  brother  among  the 
barefooted  Carmelites  at  Paris  in  1666,  and  was 
afterwards  known  as  ' '  Brother  Lawrence. "  Surely 
this  man  walked  with  God,  manifesting  every  sign 
and  token  of  the  spiritual  life  which  is  the  flower 
and  fruit  of  religion.  In  him  truly  was  "pure 
religion  and  undefiled. "  The  limits  of  religious 
fellowship — must  they,  then,  not  include  him? 

What  though  he  were  a  Roman  Catholic  and 
others  of  us  are  staunch  Protestants?  We  must 
either  deny  to  him  essential  religion,  or  confess 
that  we  ourselves  fail  in  true  religion,  or  else  sweep 
him  into  our  arms  in  the  fellowship  of  souls.  I  for 
one  can  never  be  a  Roman  Catholic.  I  differ 
widely  and  deeply  from  Roman  Catholicism. 
Those  differences  seem  to  me  serious.  I  must 
maintain  my  own  convictions  over  against  what 
seem  to  me  its  grave  errors.     But,  nevertheless,  I 


214  Catholicity 

must  also  recognize  those  differences  as  minor, 
matters  in  religion — the  real,  essential  thing  being 
the  life  of  the  spirit ;  that  life  of  the  spirit  which  we 
must  reverently  recognize  in  the  barefoot  Car- 
melite, and  therefore  dare  not  refuse  to  fellowship 
with  him. 

The  other  illustration  is  from  one  far  removed 
from  Brother  Lawrence,  not  only  geographically 
but  in  the  wider  spaces  which  heredity  and  environ- 
ment place  between  him  and  the  Roman  Catholic 
monk. 

This  son  of  God  was  born  of  poor  parents  in  a 
remote  village  of  a  great  land  far  away.  He  was 
early  dedicated  to  religion.  He  became  what  in 
the  Catholic  church  would  be  called  an  acolyte. 
It  was  his  duty  as  a  lad  to  serve  the  priests  in  their 
ministrations.  In  the  sacred  building  wherein  he 
ministered  was  a  venerable  image  of  the  Divine 
Being.  Gazing  reverently  upon  this  sacred  image 
from  time  to  time  one  idea  came  to  possess  his 
mind:  ''Is  there  anything  behind  this  image? 
Is  it  true  that  there  is  a  Divine  Being  in  the  uni- 
verse? And  is  it  true  that  that  Being  loves  and 
guides  this  universe,  or  is  it  all  a  dream?     Is  there 


Fellowship  215 

any  reality  in  religion?"  Day  after  day  he 
would  weep  and  say,  "Is  it  true  that  thou  art, 
or  is  it  all  poetry?  Art  thou  the  imagination 
of  poets  and  misguided  people  or  is  there  such  a 
reality?" 

This  thought,  which  was  foremost  in  his  mind, 
gained  in  strength  every  day  until  he  could  think 
of  nothing  else.  He  would  forget  his  duties  in  the 
ministry  of  worship.  At  last  it  became  impossible 
for  him  to  fulfill  those  duties.  He  retreated  to  a 
forest  and  lived  there.  Of  this  period  in  his  life  he 
said  long  after  that  he  could  not  tell  how  the  sun 
rose  and  set  or  how  he  lived.  He  forgot  to  eat — 
forgot  everything  but  the  thought  possessing  him. 
During  this  period  he  was  lovingly  watched  over 
by  a  relative,  who  put  into  his  mouth  the  food 
which  he  mechanically  swallowed.  As  the  evening 
would  draw  on  and  the  peals  of  the  bells  in  the 
nearby  temples  reached  him  in  the  forest,  the  music 
of  the  chimes  and  the  voices  of  the  worshiping 
people  would  make  the  boy  very  sad,  leading  him 
to  cry  out :  *'  One  day  is  gone  in  vain  and  thou  dost 
not  come;  one  day  of  this  short  life  is  gone  and  I 
have  not  known  the  truth!"     In  the  agony  of  his 


2i6  Catholicity 

soul  he  would  sometimes  press  his  face  against  the 
earth  and  weep. 

A  divine  madness  seized  the  boy.  Days,  weeks, 
months  passed  in  this  struggle  of  his  soul.  He 
began  to  see  visions.  The  secrets  of  his  nature 
dawned  upon  him.  Veil  after  veil  fell  from  the 
infinite  mystery. 

A  holy  woman  heard  of  him  and  sought  him  out 
that  she  might  help  him.  Recognizing  his  trouble, 
she  said  to  him :  ''My  son,  blessed  is  the  man  upon 
whom  such  madness  comes.  The  whole  of  this 
universe  is  mad ;  some  for  wealth,  some  for  pleasure, 
some  for  fame.  Blessed  is  the  man  who  is  mad 
after  God."  A  saintly  and  philosophic  monk 
heard  of  him,  and  he,  too,  sought  out  the  boy  that 
he  might  help  him.  He  taught  the  lad  the 
philosophy  underlying  his  sacred  books,  but  soon 
found  that  the  pupil  was  in  some  respects  wiser 
than  the  master.  He  spent  several  months  with 
the  boy,  at  the  end  of  which  he  initiated  him  into 
his  monastic  order  and  took  his  departure. 

The  lad's  relatives  thought  that  his  madness 
would  be  cured  if  they  could  get  him  married. 
He  had  been  betrothed  at  the  age  of  eighteen.    In 


Fellowship  217 

her  far  off  home,  the  girl  had  heard  that  her 
betrothed  had  become  a  rehgious  enthusiast  and 
that  he  was  even  considered  insane.  She  set  out 
to  find  him  and  to  learn  the  truth  for  herself.  A 
pure  and  noble  soul,  she  was  able  to  understand 
his  longings  and  to  sympathize  with  them.  She 
renounced  her  claim  upon  him  and  bade  him 
continue  in  the  life  to  which  he  had  given  himself, 
only  asking  for  herself  that  she  might  remain  near 
him  to  learn  of  him.  She  became  one  of  his  most 
devoted  disciples,  revering  him  as  a  divine  being. 
This  experience  was,  in  the  Far  East,  the  parallel 
of  the  touching  story  of  St.  Clara  and  St.  Francis. 
Through  her  revelation  of  womanhood,  largely, 
he  was  enabled  to  gain  the  elevation  of  soul  whence 
he  could  see  in  every  woman's  face  only  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  face  of  the  source  and  spring  of  all 
womanhood,  whom  men  as  wide  apart  in  time  and 
in  thought  as  Augustine  and  Theodore  Parker 
were  wont  to  call  ''our  Mother  God.  "  Made  pure 
himself,  he  could  look  upon  every  woman's  face 
as  transfigured  with  awe  and  reverence.  Thus  he 
was  helped  by  a  noble  woman  to  cast  out  every 
lust  of  the  flesh. 


2i8  Catholicity 

The  love  of  money  was  also  exorcised  in  his 
experience.  The  thought  of  worldly  wealth  he 
abandoned  when  he  became  a  monk.  Hosts  of  his 
devotees  longed  to  bestow  gifts  upon  him,  but  he 
received  from  no  one  aught  more  than  that  which 
sufhced  for  the  simplest  necessities  of  life.  The 
sight  of  money  filled  him  with  strange  dread.  He 
long  practiced  a  curious  self-discipline.  He  would 
take  in  one  hand  a  piece  of  gold  and  in  the  other  a 
lump  of  earth.  He  would  call  the  gold  earth  and 
the  earth  gold,  and  then,  changing  the  contents  of 
one  hand  into  the  other,  he  would  keep  up  the 
process  until  he  lost  all  sense  of  the  difference 
between  the  gold  and  the  earth.  Thus,  in  these 
two  experiences  he  embodied  the  principle  which  is 
the  heart  of  all  religion,  as  taught  aHke  by  Buddha, 
and  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  Saint  Francis,  as  lived 
supremely  in  the  Christ  of  God — the  principle  of 
Renunciation. 

His  was  no  mere  cloistered  saintliness.  In  his 
latter  years  he  ministered  as  a  teacher  devotedly 
and  consumingly.  But  he  did  not  begin  to  teach 
until  he  himself  had  learned  the  truth.  The 
principle  of  his  life  was — ^first  form  character  and 


Fellowship  219 

then  results  will  come  of  themselves.  His  favorite 
illustration  was:  "When  the  lotus  opens,  the  bees 
come  of  their  own  accord  to  seek  the  honey;  so 
let  the  lotus  of  your  character  be  full  blown  and 
the  results  will  follow." 

That  he  won  the  loftiest  character  his  revering 
disciples  testify.  One  writes  of  him:  "I  found 
that  man  could  be  perfect  even  in  the  body.  Those 
lips  never  cursed  any  one,  never  criticized  any  one. 
Those  eyes  were  beyond  the  possibility  of  seeing 
evil.  That  mind  had  lost  the  power  of  thinking 
evil.  He  saw  nothing  but  good."  This  same 
disciple  writes  of  him  that,  though  unlettered,  the 
wise  men  from  the  great  university  in  the  town 
near  which  he  dwelt  would  throng  out  to  listen  to 
him. 

No  wonder  that  to  one  who  could  thus  say, 
"We  speak  that  which  we  do  know  and  testify 
that  which  we  have  seen,"  men  flocked  in  crowds 
to  still  the  hunger  of  the  soul.  To  them  he  would 
talk  twenty  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  and  that 
not  for  one  day  but  for  weeks  and  months.  He 
would  not  refuse  to  help  the  humblest  of  the 
thousands    seeking    his    aid.     A    throat    trouble 


220  Catholicity 

developed.  He  could  not  be  persuaded  to  refrain 
from  teaching.  ''While  I  can  speak  I  must  teach 
them."  So  he  wasted  toward  the  end.  As  the 
news  of  his  failing  strength  spread  far  and  wide, 
the  multitudes  increased,  intent  on  hearing  him 
before  he  passed  away.  At  last  the  end  came. 
One  morning  he  told  his  disciples  that  he  would  lay 
down  the  body  that  day;  and,  repeating  the  most 
sacred  words  of  the  sacred  book  of  the  land,  he 
entered  into  unconsciousness,  and  so  passed  away. 
One  who  was  known  well  and  honored  deeply 
in  this  land,  who  "walked  with  God  and  was  not, 
for  God  took  him,"  said  of  this  saint:  "In  the 
midst  of  his  emaciation  his  face  retains  its  fullness 
and  childlike  tenderness,  a  profound  humbleness 
and  unspeakable  sweetness  of  expression,  and  a 
smile  that  I  have  seen  on  no  other  face  that  I  can 
remember."  Speaking  of  his  trances  and  ecs- 
tasies, the  same  writer  declared  of  this  saint  of 
God :  "That  he  sees  something,  hears  and  enjoys, 
when  he  is  dead  to  all  the  outward  world,  there  is 
no  doubt.  If  not,  why  should  he  in  the  midst  of 
that  unconsciousness  burst  into  floods  of  tears, 
break  out  into  prayers,  songs  and  utterances,  the 


Fellowship  221 

force  and  pathos  of  which  pierce  the  hardest  hearts 
and  bring  tears  to  eyes  that  never  wept  before 
under  the  influence  of  reHgion?  " 

This  saint  of  God  was  known  in  his  land  as 
Paramhamsa  Srimat  Ramakrishna.  He  is  regarded 
by  thousands  of  his  fellow  countrymen  in  India 
to-day  as  a  divine  incarnation.  Even  in  our 
western  world  he  is  recognized  as  perhaps  the 
greatest  saint  of  God  in  the  modern  world.  (He 
was  born  the  20th  of  February,  1835.)  The  men 
whose  testimony  has  been  quoted  were  no  less 
eminent  than  Swami  Vivekananda  and  Protap 
Chunder  Mozoomdar. 

Did  this  Hindu  saint  not  embody  "pure  religion 
and  undefiled?"  Was  not  his  religion  the  one 
essential,  pure,  vital  religion?  An  alien  to  us,  a 
man  of  another  land,  dark-skinned,  brought  up 
under  thoughts  which  are  strange  to  us,  differing 
widely  in  many  respects  from  us — is  not  this 
"heathen"  one  with  us,  as  we  ourselves  are  truly 
religious? 

I  do  not  slur  over  the  intellectual  differences 
between  us  and  him.  We  cannot  lightly  cut  our 
footings  in  the  past,  out  of  which  we  have  grown. 


222  Catholicity 

We  cannot  easily  change  the  environment  which 
has  so  largely  moulded  us.  We  do  not  deny  the 
evolution  through  which  all  ancient  religions  seem 
to  us  to  have  led  up  towards  Jesus  the  Christ  of 
God,  and  to  have  crowned  themselves  in  his  con- 
sciousness. Yet  I  cannot  but  find  in  this  Hindu 
saint  the  shining  of  that  light,  which,  coming  to 
the  full  in  Jesus,  was  none  the  less  the  light  "which 
lighteneth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world.** 
If  we  draw  the  limits  of  religious  fellowship  short 
of  this  Hindu  saint,  those  limits  shut  out  religion 
itself. 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  barefooted  Carmelite  of 
the  Catholic  Church  and  the  ascetic  Yogi  of  the 
Hindu  forest,  at  equally  opposite  extremes  from 
us,  each  living  essential  religion,  the  religion  which 
is  the  life  of  the  spirit.  The  limits  of  religious 
fellowship  must  include  them. 

If  we  hesitate  to  accept  this  large  truth  on  its 
own  authority,  wondering  how  it  squares  with  the 
formulas  of  our  faith,  let  us  recall  that  noble 
article  of  the  oldest  and  simplest  of  Christian 
creeds.  "I  believe  in  .  .  .  the  communion  of 
saints,"    the   spiritual   fellowship   of   holy   souls. 


Fellowship  223 

And  this  without  a  single  quaHfying  word  in  the 
creed  to  Hmit  this  communion  by  any  boundaries, 
even  of  Christianity  itself!  And  then  let  us 
hearken  to  the  fine  exposition  of  this  belief  given 
in  the  Sarum  Manual,  one  of  the  mediaeval  pro- 
genitors of  the  offices  of  The  Prayer  Book.  In 
the  office  for  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick,  the  parish 
priest  is  directed  thus  to  examine  the  sick  man: 

Dearest  Brother,  dost  thou  believe  ...  in  the 
Communion  of  Saints;  that  is,  that  all  men  who 
live  in  charity  are  partakers  df  all  the  gifts  of  grace 
which  are  dispensed  in  the  church,  and  that  all  who 
are  in  fellowship  with  the  just  here  in  the  life  of  grace 
are  in  fellowship  with  them  in  glory? 

If  such  concrete  study  of  the  limits  of  religious 
fellowship  is  persuasive  as  to  the  principle  in- 
volved, we  may  make  two  applications  of  that 
principle, — more  timely  for  a  decade  ago,  but 
sufficiently  illustrative  of  the  present  study  to  be 
recalled. 

Very  remarkable  bodies  of  representatives  of 
nearly  all  the  great  denominations  of  Christianity 
in  our  country  have  met  to  consider  the  possibility 
of    federating    the    Christian    churches    for    the 


224  Catholicity 

practical  work  of  religion  in  our  land.  vSuch  con- 
ventions are  surely  a  sign  of  the  times,  for  which 
we  should  give  God  thanks,  taking  courage  to 
strive  still  more  earnestly  for  Christian  union. 
But  one  conference  that  met  in  New  York  City 
deliberately  declined  to  include  representatives  of 
Unitarianism.  Probably  it  was  justified  in  so 
doing  on  practical  grounds.  The  first  step  towards 
the  federation  of  the  churches  must  needs  be 
taken  by  the  great  evangelical  bodies,  and  they 
doubtless  are  not  yet  ready  to  subordinate  the 
intellectual  tenets  of  Unitarianism  to  the  ethical 
and  spiritual  life  of  Unitarians.  They  still  count 
the  notes  of  orthodoxy  as  of  greater  moment  than 
the  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  What  men  think  about 
Christ  is  more  important  to  them  than  what  Christ 
thought  about  man.  And  so  the  door  of  that  great 
conference  was,  with  regretful  courtesy,  shut  in  the 
face  of  such  Christian  men  as  Edward  Everett 
Hale,  John  D.  Long  and  Samuel  Eliot.  Is  not  this 
lamentable  action  of  that  conference  a  recrudes- 
cence of  a  lower  conception  of  religion  than  that 
which  the  Christ  taught  and  lived? 

The  peace   of  Portsmouth   introduced   to   the 


Fellowship  225 

fellowship  of  the  great  nations  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion a  new  and  strange  sister  among  the  states  of 
the  world.  Japan  made  good  her  claim  to  be 
counted  among  the  great  powers  of  the  world ;  made 
that  claim  good  in  the  splendid  skill  and  the 
magnificent  valor  shown  alike  by  her  army  and 
her  navy.  She  also  made  good  her  claim  to  be 
treated  among  the  Christian  nations  of  the  world — 
if  we  will  admit  to  Christian  fellowship  a  people 
who,  if  they  do  not  hold  all  the  ideals  of  Christen- 
dom, at  least  hold  many;  who,  composing  their 
ideals  in  ways  strange  to  Christendom  and  short 
of  its  final  aim,  yet  hold  philosophies  by  which  a 
race  may  live  exalt edly. 

Japan  illustrated  her  religious  faith  in  her  moral 
life;  her  faith  in  the  supremacy  of  the  ideal,  in  a 
celestial  over-lordship;  her  faith  in  the  continued 
life  of  those  who  have  passed  from  earth;  in  the 
soul-mastership;  of  her  Lord  Buddha;  the  faith 
whence  has  flowed  the  forcefulness  for  her  vic- 
tories in  war  and  for  her  victories,  no  less  renowned, 
in  peace.  Face  to  face  with  the  white-skinned 
Christian  stands  the  yellow  pagan,  asking  the  due 
of  racial  recognition,  of  religious  fellowship. 

IS 


226  Catholicity 

Shall  she  have  it?  Will  Christendom  still  call 
her  "heathen,"  and  patronize  her  pleasantly, 
while  it  proceeds  to  convert  her?  Or  will  Chris- 
tendom trust  its  own  Christ  enough  to  welcome 
the  light  shining  in  her  eyes,  and  thus  make  ready 
for  a  spiritual  exchange  between  the  East  and  the 
West  of  the  soul-goods  of  each,  while  thus  best 
preparing  the  way  for  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun 
to  welcome  the  rising  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
with  healing  on  its  wings?  With  solemn  challenge 
the  East  strikes  the  center  of  the  shield  of  the 
West,  summoning  it  to  a  test  of  faith  such  as 
Christendom  has  never  known  since  the  days  of 
old,  when  the  young  religion  strove  with  the 
venerable  religions  of  the  East,  with  Isis  and 
Mithra  and  the  Mother  of  the  gods,  and  found 
itself  in  this  mortal  conflict. 

No  matter  how  most  orthodox  pastors  caution, 
no  matter  what  most  learned  professors  instruct, 
we  may  trust  the  religion  within  us  in  fellowshiping 
with  the  trul}^  religious  everywhere,  in  "the  free- 
dom of  the  faith." 

We  may  need  our  creeds  and  institutions  a  long 
while  yet,   but  let  these  swathing-bands  of  the 


Fellowship  '^'^'1 

infant  soul  be  elastic.  Let  them  stretch  as  the  life 
swells  within  the  soul,  the  life  which  is  the  love  of 
God  and  the  love  of  man ;  stretch  until  the  mira- 
cle shall  be  accomplished,  and  those  whom  our 
intellects  judge  to  stand  outside  the  limits  of 
religious  fellowship,  the  heart  sees  to  be  within 
the  bands  of  a  man.  Oh!  the  shame  and  the  sin 
of  the  waste  of  men  and  money  over  our  petty, 
parochial  pieties,  our  devotion  to  creeds  and  in- 
stitutions, our  slavery  to  sects  and  churches,  our 
enthusiasm  over  the  things  which  only  separate 
us;  while  above  us  all,  in  our  pitiful  blindness, 
sobs  the  great  heart  of  the  Christ:  "That  they  all 
may  be  one:  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me  and  I  in 
thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us:  that  the 
world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me. " 


VIII 

THE   POSSIBILITIES   OF   COMMON 
WORSHIP 

The  possibilities  of  common  worship  are  the 
possibiHties  of  developed  intellectual  and  spiritual 
life.  No  worship  in  common  is  possible  between 
men  who  are  unevolved  intellectually  and  spirit- 
ually. Undeveloped  men,  intellectually  and  spirit- 
ually, must  worship,  if  they  worship  at  all,  within 
narrow  limitations — the  limitations  of  the  family, 
the  tribe,  the  clan,  the  city,  the  state,  the  denomin- 
ation, the  religion.  As  men  evolve  intellectually 
and  spiritually  they  grow  out  of  the  limita- 
tions which  narrow  and  confine  their  worship 
within  social,  political,  and  sectarian  bounds — 
they  grow  large  enough  to  commingle  their  aspira- 
tions and  reverences  in  the  recognition  of  some- 
thing common  below  all  diversities  of  creed  and 

cult.     The  measure  of  the  possibility  of  common 

228 


Common  Worship  229 

worship  is,  therefore,  the  measure  of  the  possibility 
of  common  Hfe. 

It  is  of  supreme  importance  for  man  that  he 
should  worship  somewhat  and  somewhere.  The 
final  condemnation  of  a  man  before  the  bar  of  the 
soul  is  the  sentence  which  Emerson  passed  upon 
Gibbon — "The  man  had  no  shrine."  The  man 
who  has  no  shrine,  no  altar  of  reverence  and 
veneration  and  aspiration — woe  betide  him !  That 
he  should  worship  somewhat  and  somewhere, 
even  though  within  the  narrowest  limitations  of 
the  narrowest  mind — this  is  the  supreme  desidera- 
tum for  life. 

In  the  beginning,  and  always  in  the  innermost 
essentials,  worship,  as  we  now  understand  it, — 
spiritual  reverence,  aspiration,  up-look,  commun- 
ion with  the  divine, — this  must  be  an  individual 
affair,  an  experience  of  the  soul  within  itself. 
"Thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  the  secret 
place  of  thee,  and  when  thou  hast  shut  the  door 
upon  thee  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is  in  the 
secret."  The  Hindoos,  of  whatever  sectarian  de- 
nomination, have  a  common  recognition  of  the 
supreme  sanctit}^  of  what  they  call  The  Chosen 


230  Catholicity 

Path.  Members  of  all  the  varying  sects  of  India 
share  alike  in  the  recognition  of  this  supreme 
function  of  religion.  It  means  that  each  man  shall, 
within  the  silence  of  his  own  soul,  meditate  upon, 
adore,  and  aspire  after  that  ideal  of  life  which  seems 
to  him  the  truest  and  the  highest. 

Therefore,  worship  must  always,  in  its  innermost 
essentials,  be  something  peculiar  to  the  individual 
man.  For  this  highest  worship  he  needs  no  tem- 
ple, no  mosque,  no  synagogue,  no  church. 

But,  just  because  the  innermost  essential  of 
worship  is  individual,  internal,  spiritual — there- 
fore, in  it  there  is  the  possibility  of  most  immedi- 
ate and  direct  and  universal  fellowship.  In  that 
myriads  of  Hindoos,  under  different  sectarian 
forms  and  within  different  sectarian  fellowships, 
alike  walk,  within  the  soul.  The  Chosen  Path, 
they  therein  declare  the  fellowship  of  all  who 
pursue  this  way  of  life.  Whatever  may  separate 
them  in  other  respects,  they  are  therein  one — one 
in  the  spirit. 

The  man,  therefore,  who  truly  worships,  in  the 
innermost  recesses  of  his  being,  worships  the 
innermost  reality  of  all  being — that  man  is  partici- 


Common  Worship  231 

pating  in  the  common  worship,  loved  by  all 
spiritual  beings  who  share  a  common  spiritual  life. 
In  this  supreme  ritual  of  the  soul  he  must  recognize 
a  fellowship  which  transcends  all  time,  all  space, 
all  boundaries  of  thought,  all  limitations  of  fellow- 
ship, ecclesiastical  and  national  and  racial — must 
know  himself  one  with  all  who  love  God — the 
Infinite  and  Eternal  Goodness. 

Man  is,  however,  a  social  being.  He  cannot 
live  apart  from  all  his  fellows.  He  cannot  follow 
a  purely  individual  life.  "The  Chosen  Path" 
he  can  walk  within  the  innermost  recesses  of  his 
own  soul.  When  he  comes  out  therefrom  to 
commingle  with  his  fellows  he  must  seek  some 
fellowship  with  them,  in  matters  spiritual  as  in 
matters  political,  social,  economic,  and  artistic — 
as  in  all  the  relations  of  man  with  man.  He  must 
seek,  therefore,  some  common  worship,  out  of  the 
necessities  of  a  comm.on  life — whatever  the  limita- 
tions of  that  common  life,  however  small  and  petty 
it  may  be. 

Worship,  as  we  first  find  it,  historically,  was 
limited  by  the  common  life  of  the  family,  the  tribe, 
the  clan,  the  city,  the  state.     The  members  of 


232  Catholicity 

these  ascending  social  groups  had  a  common 
worship.  They  had  a  common  worship  because 
they  had  a  common  Hfe.  There  was  a  blood-bond 
between  the  members  of  the  group.  The  recogni- 
tion of  this  blood-bond  made  possible  the  com- 
munal worship.  They  had  the  same  god.  The 
same  ritual  was  prescribed  for  the  worship  of  this 
god.  The  same  needs  were  felt  by  all  the  members 
of  the  community. 

Beyond  this  social  group  there  was  no  affiliation, 
no  fellowship,  because  there  was  no  blood-bond. 
The  members  of  the  little  community  were  aliens 
to  the  members  of  all  other  communities.  Each 
other  community  had  its  own  special  god,  its  own 
prescribed  ritual,  its  own  peculiar  needs.  The 
possibilities  of  common  worship  were  rigidly 
confined  to  the  common  life.  As  the  study  of  the 
limits  of  religious  fellowship  has  shown,  there  was 
no  dream  of  any  fellowship  beyond  it. 

From  those  ancient  historic  groupings,  up 
through  all  the  developments  of  modem  civiliza- 
tion, the  possibilities  of  common  worship  have 
ever  been  found  in  the  possibilities  of  common  life. 
Where  common  life  was  recognized,   a  common 


Common  Worship  233 

worship  has  been  felt  to  be  possible.  Where  no 
common  life  was  recognized,  there  has  been  no 
recognition  of  the  possibility  of  any  common 
worship. 

Thus,  in  the  manifold  religious  divisions  of  our 
modern  world,  the  limitations  of  common  worship 
are  precisely  the  limitations  of  the  recognized 
commonalty  in  religion, — and  there  has  been 
fellowship  in  thought  and  in  spirit,  the  participa- 
tion in  a  common  creed  and  a  common  cult,  just 
in  so  far  there  has  been  the  sense  of  a  common 
brotherhood. 

As  the  sense  of  a  common  life  grows  and  expands, 
the  sense  of  a  possible  common  worship  grows  and 
expands  with  it. 

The  little  man  in  the  little  sect  feels  that  he  can 
worship  with  his  other  little  brothers  because  they 
are  brothers  in  the  one  true  faith,  in  the  one  true 
life.  He  cannot  recognize  the  possibility  of  any 
common  worship  between  his  own  sect,  which 
holds  the  exclusive  monopoly  of  divine  truth  and 
divine  life,  and  any  other  sect,  which  is  an  alien 
to  the  household  of  God.  As  he  grows  out  of  these 
swathing  bands  of  religion,  and  comes  to  recognize 


234  Catholicity 

that  truth  is  held  in  common  by  other  sects  and 
other  reHgions,  that  the  Hfe  of  the  soul  is  shared 
in  common  by  other  sects  and  by  other  religions, 
he  grows  to  recognize  the  possibility  of  common 
worship. 

In  the  recognition  of  the  common  life,  mental 
and  spiritual,  there  is  a  recognition  of  the  common 
worship  open  to  all  who  share  that  common  life. 
*'Howbeit,  that  is  not  first  which  is  spiritual,  but 
that  which  is  natural,  and  afterwards  that  which  is 
spiritual."  Therefore,  in  the  beginning,  he  must 
have  his  little  sect,  his  petty  denomination — the 
first  social  grouping;  marked  and  bounded  by 
the  recognized  fraternities  of  thought  and  feeling, 
of  temperament  and  tradition,  of  education  and 
habit,  of  the  whole  mental  and  spiritual  outlook. 
The  littlest  sect,  the  pettiest  church,  the  smallest 
denomination,  the  feeblest  religion,  is  an  attempt 
at  something  bigger  than  any  individual,  an  effort 
for  some  socializing  of  the  soul.  We  may  look 
upon  its  limitations  and  pity  it;  upon  its  narrow- 
ness and  condemn  it.  Relative  to  the  larger  life 
of  the  spiritual  cosmos,  how  insignificantly  small 
the  biggest  of  these  sects  of  religion  seem!    None 


Common  Worship  235 

the  less,  each  is,  as  already  said,  an  effort  toward 
something  bigger  than  the  mere  man  himself.  It  is 
an  aspiration,  an  effort  for  some  common  worship. 
The  little  man  will  be  content  always  within 
the  little  church.  The  provincial  soul  will  need 
no  traveling  forth  from  the  provincial  sect.  But 
as  the  soul  grows  within  the  pettiest  denomination, 
it  must  reach  out  to  other  denominations — that  is, 
to  other  souls  between  whom  and  itself  there  is 
the  recognition  of  something  common  in  the 
spiritual  life,  whatever  the  separation  of  the  outer 
life  may  be.  A  man  may  be  measured,  always,  in 
his  intellectual  and  spiritual  development,  by  the 
possibility  of  his  reaching  out  from  his  own  fold 
and  clasping  the  hands  of  his  brother  souls  in  other 
folds.  The  mere  sectarian,  the  mere  denomina- 
tionalist,  the  mere  churchman  will  never  want  to 
go  outside  of  his  own  pen-fold.  But  the  soul 
swelling  with  the  life  of  God,  the  recognition  of 
something  common  between  all  true  souls,  will  be 
ever  longing  for  some  expression  of  the  sense  of 
fellowship  which  has  awakened  within  him  toward 
his  brothers — the  brothers  of  the  blood-bond  of  the 
family  of  God. 


236  Catholicity 

So  this  growing  soul  will  be  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  worshiping  with  others,  under  other 
forms,  in  other  rituals.  As  opportunity  conies,  he 
will  be  thankful  to  forsake  a  while  his  own  con- 
venticle, and  take  part  in  the  worship  of  some 
other  cult.  The  little  man,  when  he  wanders  into 
a  strange  place  of  worship,  where  other  forms  are 
used  than  those  familiar  to  himself,  will  see  only 
that  which  is  repellent  to  his  thought,  his  feeling, 
only  that  which  calls  forth  his  pity  or  his  aversion, 
only  that  which  prompts  his  harsh  condemnation. 
The  big  man,  the  man  who  has  grown  in  his  soul, 
will  find,  before  the  strangest  and  most  alien 
shrine,  the  sense  of  the  Divine  Presence  awakening 
the  sense  of  the  commonalty  of  the  soul  made  in  the 
image  of  the  Divine,  the  spiritual  fellowship.  He 
will  see,  below  and  within  the  forms  that  are  alien 
and  repellent,  something  to  admire,  to  revere,  to 
recognize  as  divine.  The  cockney  on  a  specially 
conducted  Cook's  tour  will  stand  in  St.  Peter's, 
with  his  hat  upon  his  head,  until  the  verger  knocks 
it  off;  stark  upright  while  the  whole  throng  is 
kneeling  on  the  marble  floor,  contemptuously 
smiling  at  the  idolatry  of  these  Papists,  falling  on 


Common  Worship  237 

their  knees  at  the  tinkHng  of  the  silver  bell.  The 
grown  soul  will  feel  and  act  as  Lowell  did  in 
Chartres  Cathedral: 

I  turned  and  saw  a  beldame  on  her  knees ; 
With  eyes  astra^^  she  told  mechanic  beads 
Before  some  shrine  of  saintly  womanhood, 
Bribed  intercessor  with  the  far-off  Judge : 
Such  my  first  thought,  by  kindlier  soon  rebuked, 
Pleading  for  whatsoever  touches  life 
With  upward  impulse :  be  He  nowhere  else, 
God  is  in  all  that  liberates  and  lifts, 
In  all  that  humbles,  sweetens,  and  consoles: 
Blessed  the  natures  shored  on  every  side 
With  landmarks  of  hereditary  thought ! 
Thrice  happy  they  that  v/ander  not  lifelong 
Beyond  near  succor  of  the  household  faith. 
The  guarded  fold  that  shelters,  not  confines! 
Their  steps  find  patience  in  familiar  paths. 
Printed  with  hope  by  loved  feet  gone  before 
Of  parent,  child,  or  lover,  glorified 
By  simple  magic  of  dividing  Time. 
My  lids  were  moistened  as  the  woman  knelt, 
And — was  it  will,  or  some  vibration  faint 
Of  sacred  Nature,  deeper  than  the  will? — 
My  heart  occultly  felt  itself  in  hers. 
Through  mutual  intercession  gently  leagued. 

Browning  teaches  the  same  lesson  in  the  beauti- 


238  Catholicity 

ful  parable  of  fellowship  in  religion  called  "Christ- 
mas Eve."  He  stands  in  the  vestibule  of  the 
little  Mount  Zion  Chapel  as  the  common  folk 
from  the  vicinity  crowd  into  it  of  a  rainy  evening. 
The  hopeless  commonness  of  these  people,  as  they 
press  by  him  out  of  the  dripping  rain  into  the 
steamy  chapel, — how  vividly  he  pictures  it!  He 
tries  to  take  part  in  the  worship,  but  finds  nothing 
appealing  to  him.  It  is  all  repellent  to  his  every 
taste.  The  droning  of  the  hymns,  the  cant  of 
the  commonplace  sermon — he  can  stand  them  no 
longer,  and  so  goes  forth  into  the  night  to  be  alone 
with  nature.  The  storm  has  cleared.  What 
wonder  that  the  starry  canopy  of  the  boundless 
heavens  affects  his  soul  in  sharp  contrast  to  the 
pettiness  of  the  surroundings  in  which  he  has  just 
been!  He  gives  himself  up  to  the  communion  of 
his  solitary  soul  with  the  Infinite  Being  revealed  in 
nature.  A  form  lustrous  and  lovely  he  discerns 
before  him,  recognizable  at  once. 

He  himself  with  his  human  air. 
On  the  narrow  pathway,  just  before, 
I  saw  the  back  of  him,  no  more — 
He  had  left  the  chapel,  then,  as  I. 


Common  Worship  239 

Jesus  had  been  worshiping  with  these  common- 
place folk  in  their  commonplace  ritual.  Had  he 
left  them,  too,  in  disgust  at  the  unspirituality  of 
their  worship? 

The  scene  changes.  Browning  finds  himself 
before  the  great  basilica  of  St.  Peter.  He  hears 
and  sees  the  splendors  of  the  most  ornate  ritual  of 
earth.  The  Christ  passes  within  to  join  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Roman  Mass,  as  he  had  joined  the 
service  of  Mount  Zion  Chapel.  Unable  to  worship 
in  the  chapel  conventicle,  he  had  been  left  by 
Jesus  "outside  the  door." 

Yes,  I  said — that  he  will  go 

And  sit  with  these  in  turn,  I  know. 

Recognizing  the  blind  and  selfish  limitations 
which  had  prevented  him  from  worshiping  in 
Mount  Zion  Chapel,  he  aspires  for  something 
better  now : 

Do  these  men  praise  Him  ?     I  will  raise 
My  voice  up  to  their  point  of  praise! 
I  see  the  error — 

Again  the  scene  changes.  He  finds  himself 
looking  in  upon  the  lecture  hall  of  a  German 


240  Catholicity 

university.  An  emaciated  professor  is  lecturing 
upon  the  tale  of  the  Christmas-tide.  He  resolves 
away  the  story  into  legend  and  myth.  All  that 
which  to  the  Christian  seems  most  precious,  most 
sacred,  disappears  in  this  crucible  of  criticism. 
The  Christ  who  had  led  him,  he  does  not  find  by 
his  side : 

Can  it  be  that  he  stays  inside? 
Is  the  vesture  left  me  to  commune  with? 
Could  my  soul  find  aught  to  sing  in  tune  with 
Even  at  this  lecture,  if  she  tried? 

Once  more  the  scene  changes.  He  finds  him- 
self back  in  Mount  Zion  Chapel,  on  the  bench, 
"bolt  upright, "  as  if  he  had  never  left  it. 

The  Christmas  Eve  in  that  hot,  close,  steamy 
chapel  had  brought  him,  in  a  dream,  an  experience 
which,  now  that  he  found  himself  awake  there, 
taught  him  the  lesson : 

Better  have  knelt  at  the  poorest  stream 
That  trickles  in  pain  from  the  straitest  rift ! 
For  the  less  or  the  more  is  all  God's  gift. 
Who  blocks  up  or  breaks  wide  the  granite-seam. 
And  here,  is  there  water  or  not,  to  drink? 


Common  Worship  241 

I  put  up  pencil  and  join  chorus 

To  Hepzibah  Tune,  without  further  apology, 

The  last  five  verses  of  the  third  section 

Of  the  seventeenth  hymn  in  Whitfield's  Collection, 

To  conclude  with  the  Doxology. 

Are  the  possibilities  of  common  worship  to  be 
limited  by  such  individual  and  occasional  par- 
ticipations in  the  religious  services  of  other 
denominations  than  our  own  ?  Do  such  individual 
and  occasional  fraternizings  express  the  limits 
of  spiritual  brotherhood?  Is  there  a  blood-bond 
between  souls  of  different  types,  so  real  that 
anything  more  than  this  is  practicable?  If  such  a 
blood-bond  of  souls  exists  among  those  of  different 
names,  religiously,  then,  surely,  there  are  larger 
possibilities  of  expressing  this  common  life  in  a 
common  worship.  Not  merely  occasionally  as 
individuals,  but  at  least  occasionally  as  churches, 
we  should  come  together  in  the  confession  of  "our 
common  Christianity,"  to  use  Dean  Stanley's 
noble  phrase:  that  confession  which  is  best  made 
by  a  common  worship — a  common  uplook,  a 
common  reverence,  a  common  adoration,  a  com- 
mon aspiration. 
16 


242  Catholicity 

This  was  the  firm  belief,  the  noble  dream  of  that 
great  man  Dr.  Muhlenburg.  Not  soon  will  his 
memory  pass.  He  was  one  of  the  greatest  men 
that  our  modern  Christianity  has  brought  forth — 
at  once  saint  and  seer  and  statesman.  Belonging 
to  what  would  be  known  as  the  High  Church  wing 
of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  so  large  was 
his  conception  of  Catholic  Christianity,  so  genuine 
was  his  recognition  of  the  common  Christianity  of 
all  who  "profess  and  call  themselves  Christians," 
that  he  was  unsatisfied  with  his  own  beautiful  forms 
of  worship — he  himself  having  been  the  first  to 
introduce  the  vested  choir  in  our  own  American 
branch  of  the  English  Church.  So  he  tried  to 
establish  united  services  on  Good  Friday — the  day 
on  which  Christians  commemorate  the  dying  of 
their  common  Lord  and  Master.  He  wanted  to 
have  the  Holy  Communion  celebrated  regularly 
on  that  day,  as  the  expression  of  the  communion  of 
saints,  the  common  life  of  all  Christians  who  are 
seeking  the  life  of  goodness.  If  we  believe  in 
such  a  "common  Christianity,"  can  we  not 
strive  for  some  such  occasional  services  of  wor- 
ship,   in   which   all   branches   of   the   Church   of 


Common  Worship  243 

Christ    may   unite   in   a   common   expression   of 
their  spiritual  Hfe? 

A  ''common  Christianity" — that  is  a  noble 
phrase,  a  noble  thought!  There  is,  however, 
something  larger  and  finer  than  it — a  ''common 
humanity."  God  "hath  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth."  In  that  one  blood  flows  the  one  life  of 
the  one  race.  The  unity  of  man  carries  with  it 
the  oneness  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  man.  The 
spiritual  nature  of  man  carries  with  it  the  oneness 
of  essential  religion — religion  which  is  at  once 
ethical  and  spiritual.  All  men  are  the  children 
of  the  All-Father.  All  men  are,  in  their  own  ways, 
feeling  after  God,  "if  haply  they  may  find  him." 
All  men  are,  through  different  forms,  expressing 
this  one  longing  of  their  souls  to  know  God,  which 
"is  eternal  life."  All  religions,  therefore,  are  the 
expressions  of  the  one  religious  nature  of  man.  All 
religions  are  true,  in  so  far  as  they  hold  truths. 
They  are  false,  in  so  far  as  they  are  imperfect  and 
undeveloped.  Their  unity  is  found  in  the  inner 
life  of  them  all — the  sap  swelling  through  bud  and 
blossom  upon  every  different  branch  toward  the 


244  Catholicity 

one  flowering  of  the  tree.  He  who  recognizes  this, 
and  knows  that  all  men  are  his  spiritual  brothers 
in  the  blood-bond  of  the  soul,  he  must  see  the 
possibilities  of  a  common  worship  among  all  who 
call  themselves  the  ''friends  and  lovers  of  God." 
As  an  expression  of  this  recognition  of  spiritual 
unity  among  men  of  different  religions,  there  ought 
to  be  at  least  occasional  services  of  worship,  partici- 
pated in,  as  it  were  formally,  by  representatives  of 
our  various  great  religions ;  thus  to  testify  that  below 
all  other  differences  there  is  a  common  substratum 
of  unity,  in  the  common  aspirations  and  reverences. 
This  was  the  dream  of  a  great  man  of  England, 
some  centuries  ago — a  man  at  once  among  the 
leading  statesmen  of  his  day,  and  among  the 
noblest  characters  of  all  days.  In  a  little  work 
which  he  wrote,  sketching  the  forms  and  features 
of  the  ideal  community  of  which  he  dreamed,  unto 
which  he  aspired  and  for  which  he  labored  in  old 
England,  he  drew  this  vision  of  the  common  wor- 
ship of  "Utopia": 

There  are  several  sorts  of  religions,  not  only  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  island,  but  even  in  every  town.  .  .  . 
Yet  the  greater  and  wiser  sort  of  them  worship  none 


Common  Worship  245 

of  these,  but  adore  one  eternal,  invisible,  infinite,  and 
incomprehensible  Deity.  .  .  .  Those  among  them 
that  have  not  received  our  religion,  do  not  fright  any 
from  it,  and  use  none  ill  that  goes  over  to  it.  .  .  .  He 
(Utopus)  judged  it  not  fit  to  determine  anything 
rashly,  and  seemed  to  doubt  whether  those  different 
forms  of  religion  might  not  all  come  from  God,  who 
might  inspire  men  in  a  different  manner,  and  be 
pleased  with  this  variety. 

Though  there  are  many  different  forms  of  religion 
among  them,  yet  all  these,  how  various  soever,  agree 
in  the  main  point,  which  is  the  worshiping  the  Divine 
Essence;  and  therefore  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  or 
heard  in  their  temples  in  which  the  several  persuasions 
among  them  may  not  agree;  for  every  sect  performs 
those  rites  that  are  peculiar  to  it,  in  their  private 
houses,  nor  is  there  anything  in  the  public  worship 
that  contradicts  the  particular  ways  of  those  different 
sects.  .  .  .  Nor  are  there  any  prayers  among  them 
but  such  as  every  one  of  them  may  use  without 
prejudice  to  his  own  opinion.  .  .  .  Both  priests  and 
people  offer  up  very  solemn  prayers  to  God  in  a  set  form 
of  words ;  and  these  are  so  composed,  that  whatsoever 
is  pronounced  by  the  whole  assembly  may  be  likewise 
applied  by  every  man  in  particular  to  his  own  condition. 

The  man  who  thus  wrote  was  a  Roman  Catholic. 
Can  we  not  reach  even  now  into  the  largeness  of 
his  vision? 


246  Catholicity 

Once,  at  least,  in  our  modern  world,  has  the 
vision  of  Sir  Thomas  More  been  realized.  In  the 
Parliament  of  Religions,  held  in  Chicago  in  con- 
nection with  the  World's  Fair,  there  were  repre- 
sentatives of  nearly  every  great  form  of  religion 
on  the  earth.  Well-nigh  every  branch  of  the 
Christian  Church  was  represented — the  Roman 
Church  and  the  Greek  Church,  and  every  variety 
of  Protestantism.  The  great  religions  of  the 
East  were  represented,  too:  Mohammedanism, 
Buddhism,  Hindooism,  and  others.  It  is  im- 
possible to  conceive  of  a  more  heterogeneous 
religious  gathering  than  was  this!  How  wide  the 
intellectual  differences  of  these  representatives  of 
earth's  religions  was  plainly  shown  in  the  state- 
ments made  upon  that  platform.  Each  of  these 
representatives  of  the  great  religions  of  the  earth 
was  in  earnest  in  his  convictions — ready  to  sur- 
render no  one  of  them.  Yet,  in  the  spirit  that 
prevailed  on  that  occasion — the  recognition  of  the 
common  blood-bond  of  all  souls  as  the  children 
of  the  All-Father — it  was  found  wholly  practicable 
that  all  these  men  of  various  races  and  creeds  and 
cults  should  unite  daily  in  one  form  of  prayer — 


Common  Worship  247 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven. "  It  was  worth 
all  that  Parliament  cost,  of  money  and  of  labor, 
to  see,  once  upon  the  earth  the  representatives  of 
well-nigh  all  the  religions  of  the  earth  affirm  thus 
the  possibilities  of  a  common  worship. 

So,  at  a  later  date,  the  New  York  State  Con- 
ference of  Religion  early  took  into  consideration 
the  subject  of  the  possibility  of  common  worship. 
A  special  committee  appointed  urged  the  impor- 
tance of  the  element  of  worship  in  the  sessions 
of  the  conference.  It  was  felt  that  the  wider  the 
intellectual  differences  represented  in  the  Con- 
ference the  greater  the  need  of  coming  together 
in  the  spirit,  for  worship.  Finally  there  resulted 
a  "Book  of  Common  Worship, "  prepared  by  this 
special  committee,  under  the  authorization  of  the 
Executive  Committee.  The  book  itself  includes 
the  choicest  passages  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments, with  a  number  of  selections  from  Rabbinical 
Commentaries  on  the  Old  Testament,  and  a 
considerable  anthology  of  the  Sacred  Books  of  the 
East,  representing  all  the  great  extant  religions, 
as  well  as  some  of  the  religions  of  antiquity; 
nearly  a  hundred  collects  or  short  prayers  drawn 


248  Catholicity 

from  the  offices  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  Churches, 
from  the  ''Uses"  of  the  Church  of  England,  and 
from  the  Hturgies  of  other  great  Churches,  together 
with  prayers  of  private  individuals  of  all  branches 
of  the  Christian  Church,  orthodox  as  well  as 
heterodox,  selections  from  the  offices  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  and  a  representation  of  the  theistic 
worship  of  India;  and  finally,  some  seventy-five 
hymns  drawn  from  all  sources.  This  book  was 
put  forth  as  an  object-lesson  in  the  possibilities 
of  common  worship.  It  is  believed  that  it  can 
be  used  in  Conferences  by  all  who  are  represented 
in  them.  In  fact  it  has  been  used,  acceptably,  and 
has  to  that  extent  thereby  been  a  demonstration 
of  the  possibilities  of  common  worship. 

What  can  be  done  in  one  instance  can  be  done 
in  other  instances.  Other  representative  gather- 
ings of  the  varied  forms  of  religion  upon  our  shores 
can  unite  in  some  such  common  worship — thus 
confessing  the  common  faith  underlying  all  creeds, 
the  common  life  breathing  through  all  souls. 

Criticisms,  of  course,  will  be  made  upon  this 
"Book  of  Common  Worship,"  and  upon  the 
effort  of  which  it  was  an  imperfect  expression. 


Common  Worship  249 

The  ultraconservative  will  turn  to  the  Christian 
collects,  embodied  in  it,  and  point  out  the  fact 
that  the  formula  usually  concluding  Christian 
prayers  is  omitted.  It  is  the  wont  in  Christian 
churches  to  conclude  prayers  with  some  such 
expression  as  ''in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,"  or 
''for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ, "  or  "through  Jesus 
Christ."  For  obvious  reasons,  in  a  gathering 
representing  Judaism  as  well  as  Christianity,  such 
a  form  cannot  be  used.  Is  this  a  surrender  of  any- 
thing vital  in  Christianity?  Let  it  suffice  to  point 
out  the  fact  that  this  formula  was  of  late  growth 
in  Christian  liturgies.  The  earlier  liturgies  either 
did  not  have  it,  or  only  used  it  occasionally. 
There  was  no  standard  rule  as  to  its  use.  Some 
of  the  noblest  prayers  of  the  earliest  Christian 
^-.urgics  were  wholly  without  it — as  will  be  seen 
in  the  "Book  of  Common  Worship."  We  return 
to  the  primitive  usage  of  Christianity.  And,  if 
primitive  Christianity  be  the  nearest  to  original 
Christianity — the  Christianity  of  the  Christ — 
then  surely  we  cannot  be  far  wrong  in  following 
this  example.  The  Lord  and  Master  of  all  Chris- 
tians taught   His   disciples  to  pray   thus:  "Our 


250  Catholicity 

Father  which  art  in  Heaven."  That  prayer 
concluded  without  the  formula  evolved  in  later 
ages.  If  it  is  a  formula  vital  to  Christ's  Chris- 
tianity, why  did  He  not  teach  it?  If  so  unessen- 
tial to  Christ's  Christianity,  can  it  be  essential  to 
our  Christianity?  In  reality,  the  conception  of 
this  Christian  formula,  as  universally  necessary, 
is  a  total  misconception  of  one  of  the  great  words 
and  thoughts  of  Jesus:  "Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask 
in  my  name  it  shall  be  given  you.  "  That  does  not 
mean  the  mere  repetition  of  the  name  of  Christ. 
As  every  pious  Jew  can  tell  our  Christians,  the 
name  is  the  symbol  of  his  character.  Then  do  we 
pray  in  the  name  of  Jesus  when  we  pray  in  the 
spirit  of  Jesus,  in  the  light  of  the  truth  of  Jesus. 
To  pray  any  otherwise  than  after  the  pattern  of 
the  spirit  of  Jesus,  according  to  the  mind  that  was 
in  Jesus,  that  is  to  fail  in  using  the  name  of  Jesus — 
that  and  that  alone.  Surely  the  truth  of  Jesus, 
the  spirit  of  Jesus,  is  found  in  a  common  worship 
among  all  who  are  the  sons  of  His  Father  and  our 
Father,  His  God  'and  our  God.  So  we  are,  in  the 
deepest  and  truest  sense,  praying  in  the  name  of 
Jesus,  when  we  look  around  among  all  the  children 


Common  Worship  ^Si 

of  earth  and  say:  "Whoso  doeth  the  will  of  my 
Father  which  is  in  Heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother 
and  my  sister." 

The  possibilities  of  common  worship — by  a 
changed  emphasis,  we  change  the  light  in  which 
we  are  regarding  the  topic.  A  common  worship 
holds  possibilities  for  the  common  life  of  man  of 
supreme  importance.  All  earnest  souls  are  dream- 
ing of  religious  unity.  Unity  is  the  great  generali- 
zation of  our  age.  All  things  are  tending  toward  it. 
Religion  feels  the  universal  trend.  It  is  becoming 
synthetic.  It  is  drawing  together,  from  all  parts 
of  the  earth.  Christians  are  everywhere  praying 
again  that  prayer  of  their  Master  "that  they  all 
may  be  one. "  Men  are  everywhere  praying  that 
prayer  in  its  largest  sense — that  they  all,  all  the 
children  of  earth,  as  they  are  children  of  the  All- 
Father,  may  be  one.  How  is  Christian  unity  to  be 
achieved?  Surely  not  by  working  from  without 
in,  in  any  scheme  of  ecclesiastic  unification. 

The  lines  of  hopeful  effort  toward  Christian 
union  are,  in  my  judgment,  three.  First,  in- 
tellectual effort  to  discern  the  reality  of  that 
common  Christianity  underlying  all  creeds.    Every 


252  Catholicity 

great  liberalizing  factor  in  our  modern  Christen- 
dom is  making  thus  for  unity — as,  by  winnow- 
ing the  temporal  from  the  eternal  in  all  sects,  it 
is  driving  us  all  back  upon  the  essentials  of  faith. 
Second,  practical  co-operation,  wherein  the 
churches  come  together  as  facing  the  common 
problems  of  social  life,  desiring  in  common  to 
establish  the  Kingdom  of  God,  the  Divine  Order. 
Each  church  is  finding  that  the  problems  of  in- 
temperance, and  impurity,  and  dishonesty,  and 
political  corruption,  and  all  the  other  problems 
of  our  organic  life  which  it  faces,  are  faced  by 
every  otlier  church.  Each  church  is  finding  itself 
helpless  to  grapple  with  these  problems  alone. 
As  the  churches  all  come  to  realize  that  in  the 
grappling  with  these  problems  is  their  true  work — 
the  building  up  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  upon  earth 
— they  will  draw  together,  as  they  are  now  drawing 
together;  waiving  all  differences,  setting  aside 
all  contrarieties  of  opinion,  holding  in  the  back- 
ground all  that  separates  them,  that  they  may 
work  in  common  for  the  common  need  of  man. 
Most  practical  and  hopeful  this  line  of  effort 
toward  Christian  unity! 


Common  Worship  253 

One  line  of  effort  toward  Christian  unity  remains. 
The  recognition  of  the  common  spiritual  life 
among  "all  who  call  themselves  Christians"  will 
lead  increasingly  to  some  form  of  common  worship. 
Whatever  our  differences  concerning  intellectual 
opinions  and  practical  philanthropy,  all  true  souls 
must  feel  that  there  is  but  one  love  of  God,  and 
of  the  Christ  hid  in  God,  within  them  all.  Ex- 
pression of  this  in  worship  is  the  best  confession  of 
the  oneness  of  our  spiritual  life — the  spiritual  life 
out  of  which  all  religions  grow.  The  confession  of 
this  is  the  confession  of  essential  unity  as  already 
existing — established  in  the  very  nature  and  con- 
stitution of  the  soul.  In  the  very  nature  of  things, 
therefore,  all  Christians  find  themselves  one  when 
they  can  worship  together.  The  things  that  di- 
vide them  must  be  the  things  of  lesser  importance : 
intellectual  opinions,  temperamental  tastes,  habits 
of  life,  etc.  Until  we  can  see  eye  to  eye  intellectu- 
ally, and  until  we  can  agree  enough  as  to  what 
needs  to  be  done  for  the  world  to  pull  all  together 
in  social  reform — we  can  at  least  come  together, 
now  and  then,  in  the  sublimities  of  a  common  wor- 
ship, and  thus  confess  that  we  are  one  in  Christ. 


254  Catholicity 

The  worship  which  is  signed  in  the  sacred  sym- 
boHsm  of  the  churches — this  must  always  be  the 
highest  effort  of  the  human  soul.  Into  it  religion 
must  always  strain  its  essential  secret.  The  re- 
ligion of  the  future  must  be  more  than  the  re- 
ligion of  the  past.  Worship  must  be  higher 
and  purer,  more  intellectual,  more  ethical,  more 
spiritual;  more  an  expression  of  the  very  soul  of 
man.  A  modern  work  on  Christian  Institutions, 
by  a  presbyter  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
who  has  done  not  a  little  to  help  forward  the 
thought  and  life  of  the  Church,  thus  concludes: 

It  is  possible  that  the  Protestant  world  now  stands 
on  the  eve  of  some  transition,  waiting  for  the  mani- 
festation of  its  full  content,  in  a  consummate  act  of 
worship.  It  has  been  said  that  worship  is  one  of  the 
lost  arts;  but  if  so,  it  is  not  to  be  found  by  compressing 
J:he  spiritual  wealth  secured  by  the  Protestant  refor- 
mation, in  the  providence  of  God,  into  the  moulds  of 
ages  inferior  to  our  own.  Rather  must  we  go  for- 
ward, taking  all  that  the  past  can  offer,  in  so  far  as  it 
can  harmonize  with  a  greater  ideal,  but  reconstructing, 
in  some  more  comprehensive  way,  the  worship  and  the 
conception  of  the  sacrifice  acceptable  to  God.  .  .  . 
What  remains  to  be  done  is  to  gather  up  in  one  inclu- 
sive act  of  sacrifice,  all  that  these  modern  ages  have 


Common  Worship  255 

contributed  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  to  consecrate 
and  transfigure,  in  his  sight,  all  that  the  heart  and  the 
reason  hold  as  inestimably  dear  and  precious.  From 
this  sacrifice  there  cannot  be  withheld  any  contribu- 
tion made  by  the  human  mind  toward  the  solution  of 
the  mystery  of  existence.  The  sacrifice  will  include 
every  department  of  human  interest  and  inquiry — 
music,  art  and  poetry,  as  well  as  science,  philosophy 
and  theology.  It  will  include  the  life  of  the  whole 
Church  in  every  age.  It  w^ill  be  a  Christian  sacrifice 
for  Christ  Himself  will  be  the  supreme  offering  of 
humanity  to  God — He  in  Whom  are  hid  all  the  trea- 
sures of  wisdom  and  knowledge;  in  Whom  dwelt  all  the 
fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.  The  early  Christian 
Church  had  glimpses  of  such  a  sacrifice ;  it  was  to  be  a 
bloodless  sacrifice,  a  reasonable  offering,  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  mind  to  God,  with  all  that  it  discerns  of 
the  mind  of  God,  the  true,  the  beautiful  and  the  good. 
"The  noblest  sacrifice  to  God,"  said  x\thenagoras  in  his 
Apology,  "is  for  us  to  know  Him  Who  is  the  .Creator 
of  the  world  and  of  man."  "What,  then,  does  God 
require?"  said  another  Christian  writer  of  the  same 
period,  "but  the  worship  of  the  mind  which  is  pure 
and  holy."  This  worship  of  the  mind,  wanting  in 
ancient  ritual,  has  been  enjoined  by  Christ  Himself, 
as  when  He  urged  the  love  of  God  with  all  the  heart 
and  soul  and  mind.  In  the  light  of  this  injunction, 
that  the  worship  of  the  mind  is  essential  as  is  the 
worship  of  the  heart,  is  seen  more  plainly  the  meaning 
of  those  other  words  which  cannot  be  too  often  re- 


256  Catholicity 

peated:     "God  is  spirit,  and  they  who  worship  Him 
must  worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  " 


Is  this  all?  Again,  back  of  the  common  Chris- 
tianity is  the  common  humanity.  What  is  true 
of  common  worship  for  Christianity  is  true,  in  a 
larger  sense,  of  common  worship  for  humanity. 
That  sacrificial  worship  of  the  future  will  be  not 
only  the  adoration  of  the  intellect  before  the  God 
of  truth,  the  love  of  truth  itself;  it  will  be  the 
adoration  of  the  heart  before  the  God  of  Love — 
love,  living  itself  forth  in  all  service  of  man,  as  the 
service  of  God.  And  the  abiding  sign  and  symbol 
thereof  will  be  this  holy  communion  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  lighted  up  with  new  significances, 
consecrated  with  new  enthusiasms,  hallowed  with 
new  passions,  and  made  the  symbol  of  the  life 
itself. 

Vast  though  the  intellectual  differences  be  be- 
tween the  great  religions  of  the  earth;  varied  as 
the  temperamental  tastes  of  different  races  may 
be;  diverse  as  the  cults  and  creeds  of  earth  may 
thus  appear — when  we  come  to  worship,  we  are  all 
one,  and  we  know  ourselves  one  in  that  we  can 


Common  Worship  257 

worship  together.  Such  worship  together  is  thus 
the  confession  of  the  common  spiritual  life  which 
is  the  root  and  fount  of  all  religion,  out  of  which 
all  religions  grow. 

As  Matthew  Arnold  said :  Worship  must  unite, 
not  divide  men. 

Thus    to   worship    is   to   answer    the   Christ's 

prayer — Even  so,  are  we  one,  O  Jesus,  in  the  life 

and  love  of  Thy  Father  and  our  Father,  Thy  God 

and  our  God. 
17 


IX 

CHRISTIANITY  IN  EVOLUTION 

In  the  struggle  for  existence  among  the  great 
religions  of  the  world  in  the  Roman  Empire, 
Christianity  proved  to  be  a  survival  of  the  fittest. 
That  is  the  outer  story  of  the  success  of  Christian- 
ity. A  further  and  final  question  arises,  which 
may  be  considered  first,  as  leading  up  to  and  inter- 
preting the  outer  story : — How  came  it  to  pass  that 
Christianity  thus  succeeded,  where  other  religions, 
older,  more  thoroughly  organized,  better  appointed 
in  all  external  provisions,  failed?  What  was  the 
secret  of  its  success  in  this  struggle  for  existence? 
What  fitted  it  for  this  survival  of  the  fittest? 

The  deepest  currents  of  the  age,  through  all  re- 
ligions, were  making  in  one  and  the  same  direction, 
towards  one  and  the  same  goal;  the  direction  in 
which  Christianity  moved  more  rapidly  than  any 
other  religion. 

258 


Christianity  in  Evolution       259 

Everywhere  in  this  epoch,  we  see  the  tokens  of 
a  profounder  reHgious  spirit  working  through  the 
heart  of  paganism.  JuHan,  the  brilliant  and  ver- 
satile Emperor,  is  seen  upon  his  knees  before  the 
statues  of  the  gods,  covering  them  with  kisses; 
is  found  by  the  officials  of  his  court  preparing  the 
wood  for  the  sacrifice,  doing  the  most  menial 
service  in  honor  of  his  divinities.  Marcus  Aure- 
lius,  the  greatest  of  the  Roman  Emperors,  whether 
in  his  imperial  palace  or  in  his  tent  upon  the  shores 
of  the  Danube,  carries,  through  all  the  cares  of  the 
court  and  the  sterner  anxieties  of  the  army,  the 
hunger  and  thirst  of  a  great  soul  after  truth  and 
righteousness.  Everywhere,  through  the  Apolo- 
gies of  the  great  defenders  of  Christianity,  we  see 
the  souls  of  men  feeling  after  God,  if  happily  they 
might  find  him. 

A  new  and  deeper  moral  earnestness  showed  it- 
self on  every  hand.  The  most  marked  develop- 
ments of  this  were  Stoicism  and  Neo-Platonism — 
the  two  movements  of  paganism,  in  its  decadence, 
which  were  breathed  throughout  with  the  loftiest 
moral  earnestness.  As  one  reads  the  pages  of 
Seneca,  one  fancies  one  is  hearing  the  echoes  of 


26o  Catholicity 

Paul.  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius  reveal  to 
us  souls  bent  upon  the  pursuit  of  goodness,  devot- 
ing life's  energies  to  the  cultivation  of  character. 
The  great  group  of  philosophers  who  brought  about 
the  new  Platonism  were  kindred  souls  with  the 
Apostles.  They,  too,  were  ahungered  and  athirst 
after  righteousness. 

Throughout  the  nobler  portion  of  mankind  a 
deep  longing  seized  the  soul  for  freedom  from  sin. 
The  old  superficial  life  of  joyousness  had  passed 
away,  and,  in  its  place,  there  had  come  a  deep  sense 
of  human  sinfulness,  an  oppressive  sense  of  the 
bondage  of  evil  and  a  longing  for  redemption  from 
it.  This  was  what  gave  the  Mysteries  their  power. 
Men  came  to  them  for  initiation  into  the  life  of 
the  spirit.  They  taught  men  to  fight  on  earth  a 
battle  between  light  and  darkness,  between  good 
and  evil,  and  trained  them  to  take  part  in  that 
battle. 

A  gentler  and  sweeter  spirit  of  humanity  was 
spreading  everywhere.  The  old  coarse  and  brutal 
strength  of  Rome  was  mantling  itself  with  the 
graces  of  kindliness.  Virgil  betokens  this  change 
in  the  temper  and  spirit  of  the  age.     There  is, 


Christianity  in  Evolution       261 

throughout  his  familiar  poetry,  a  sweetness  as  of  a 
new  age.  This  kindhness  of  spirit  showed  itself 
in  new  and  striking  forms  of  human  helpfulness. 
Charity  awoke  from  its  long  sleep  in  paganism,  and 
stirred  itself  to  benefit  the  poor,  the  outcast,  the 
friendless,  the  forlorn.  For  the  first  time  in  the 
history  of  Rome  slaves  came  to  be  treated,  not 
as  mere  chattels,  but  as  human  beings.  Cato's 
slaves  worked  in  chains,  like  a  gang  of  convicts  in 
the  South.  They  found  a  sleeping  place  in  the 
stalls  of  the  oxen.  On  Pliny's  estates  the  slave 
chain  gang  ceased  to  be.  His  slaves  could  ac- 
quire property,  and  even  ate  at  the  table  with  his 
freed  men.  He  was  not  ashamed  to  shed  tears  at 
the  death  of  a  slave.  The  law  now  began  to  take 
slaves  under  its  protection.  Hadrian  forbade 
their  arbitrary  killing  and  provided  the  right  of 
trial  for  them.  Children  came  into  their  rights  for 
the  first  time  in  Roman  history.  Hitherto  they 
were  absolutely  in  the  power  of  the  father,  who  was 
free  to  do  what  he  pleased  with  them.  He  could 
kill  them  at  his  will.  He  exposed  them,  without 
compunction,  when  he  did  not  care  to  bring  them 
up.     And  to  expose  a  child,  as  it  was  termed,  meant 


262  Catholicity 

simply  to  take  the  unwelcome  babe  and  place  it  in 
the  streets,  or  leave  it  in  the  fields,  to  meet  what 
fate  it  might.  This  had  been  the  custom  of  good 
society  up  to  this  time.  Such  exposed  children 
could  be  treated  as  slaves  by  those  who  chose  to 
take  them  home  and  bring  them  up.  Tragan 
decreed  that  they  should  be  free.  Alexander 
Severus  allowed  the  father  the  right  to  reclaim  his 
child,  provided  that  he  repaid  the  expense  of  its 
maintenance.  Children  began  to  be  objects  of 
interest  and  care  in  the  home.  Philosophers 
recommended  mothers  to  nurse  their  children 
themselves.  The  training  of  children  became  a 
favorite  theme  with  authors  in  this  period.  A 
new  tenderness  towards  children  showed  itself. 
We  find  the  thoughts  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  amid  all 
his  anxiety  about  the  Empire,  occupied  with  a 
"little  nestling."  One  searches  in  vain,  in  earlier 
literature,  for  such  a  description  of  a  grandchild. 
Poor  children,  now,  for  the  first  time,  came  into 
their  share  in  the  State's  distribution  of  corn. 
Orphan  and  outcast  children  began  to  be  cared  for. 
Tragan  provided  for  the  care  of  five  thousand  in 
Rome,  and  for  a  considerable  number  in  other 


Christianity  in  Evolution       263 

• 

towns.  When  Antoninus  lost  his  wife,  Faustina, 
he  thought  that  the  best  way  to  honor  her  memory 
was  to  found  an  institution  for  the  support  of  poor 
girls;  and  Alexander  Severus  established  a  similar 
institution  in  honor  of  his  mother,  Mammsea. 
Private  persons  began  to  found  similar  charities. 
Pliny  endowed  one  in  Como,  with  an  income  of 
30,000  sesterces  per  annum — that  is,  about  $1500. 
A  rich  lady  made  provision  for  the  support  of 
one  hundred  children  in  Terracina,  and  gave,  for 
that  purpose,  1,000,000  sesterces — about  $50,000. 
Such  institutions  had  been  undreamed  of  in  ancient 
Rome.  The  change  which  was  coming  over  the 
spirit  of  humanity  is  illustrated  in  a  relief  on  the 
column  of  Tragan,  which  pictures  the  Emperor 
distributing  gifts  to  poor  children.  This  would 
have  been  a  compliment  which  an  earlier  Roman 
would  have  utterly  failed  to  appreciate. 

Philanthropy  began  to  make  itself  felt  as  a  force 
in  society.  Pliny  founded  libraries  or  schools  for 
the  towns  which  had  claims  upon  him,  thinking, 
as  he  said,  that  thus  a  greater  benefit  would  be 
given  to  the  community  than  through  gladiatorial 
shows,  on  which  most  men  spent  the  money  they 


264  Catholicity 

gave  away  for  the  pleasure  of  the  people.  A  dealer 
in  healing  herbs  in  a  little  town  left,  by  will,  to  the 
town  three  hundred  jars  of  drugs  and  6000  sesterces 
— about  $300 — in  order  that  medicine  might  be 
gratuitously  dispensed  to  the  poor.  Upon  a  tomb 
of  this  period  we  find  the  inscription — "Do  good, 
and  thou  wilt  carry  it  with  thee."  That  was  a 
novel  sentiment  in  Roman  society — though  it 
would  have  been  familiar  enough  to  the  ancient 
Egyptians. 

A  deep  longing  for  closer  and  truer  human  fellow- 
ship between  classes  made  itself  felt  at  this  period 
as  never  before.  The  bonds  of  brotherhood  were 
felt  drawing  men  together — those  bands  of  a  man 
which,  alone,  can  unite  a  human  society  in  a  living 
organism.  As  always — and  this  fact  should  be 
pondered  well  by  men  and  women  of  culture  and 
of  wealth — as  always,  this  sense  of  brotherhood 
first  made  itself  felt  among  the  poor.  It  was  not 
the  aristocrats  of  Rome  who  cherished  this  new 
ideal  of  fraternity — it  was  the  workingmen  of 
Rome.  They  founded  the  colleges  and  the  koinon, 
the  labor  unions  and  trade  organizations  and  mu- 
tual benefit  societies  of  all  kinds,  which,  at  this 


Christianity  in  Evolution       265 

time,  spread  throughout  the  Empire,  rapidly 
gathering  myriads  of  members.  They  were,  one 
and  all,  efforts  of  the  soul  of  man  to  bind  men  to- 
gether in  a  more  living  bond  of  brotherhood. 

These  are  hints  of  the  forces,  moral  and  spiritual, 
which  were  working  through  paganism  in  the 
period  of  its  decadence;  signs  of  the  direction  in 
which  the  deep  currents  of  human  life  were  setting 
at  this  time.  These  forces  were  found  by  men  to 
be  working  in  Christianity  more  powerfully  than 
in  any  other  religion — hence  Christianity's  appeal 
to  them.  In  this  direction  Christianity  proved  to 
be  making  more  rapidly  than  any  other  religion — 
hence  the  age  threw  itself  upon  Christianity,  to  be 
borne  forward  most  speedily  to  the  haven  where 
it  would  be.  Paganism  was  spiritualizing  itself, 
even  as  it  was  ad^dng.  In  its  last  hours  it  became 
transfigured,  and  the  inner  light  glorified  it.  The 
old  form  burst  and  the  spirit  passed  out,  not  to  be 
unclothed,  but  to  be  clothed  with  the  new  and  finer 
body  of  institutions  and  symbols  and  beliefs  which 
we  call  Christianity. 

What  were  the  needs  of  man's  soul,  thus  mani- 
festing themselves  in  the  civilization  of  the  time, 


266  Catholicity 

which  Christianity  satisfied  more  fully  than  any- 
other  religion,  and  because  of  which  it  succeeded 
in  the  struggle  for  existence — proving  a  survival 
of  the  fittest?  Generally  speaking,  we  may  sum 
these  needs  in  the  statement  that  paganism  was 
developing  a  longing  for  certitude  in  religion — a 
desire  for  a  clear  recognition  of  one  living  and  true 
God,  good,  righteous  and  holy  and  just,  the  Father 
of  men ;  a  longing  for  a  clear  and  assured  vision  of 
immortality  (these  two  already  studied  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Mysteries) ;  a  hunger  and  a  thirst  for 
a  truer  righteousness  and  a  deeper  holiness  than 
was  found  in  the  world ;  a  quickened  perception  of 
the  great  law  of  sacrifice,  under  which,  the  uplift- 
ing of  humanity  is  to  be  carried  out ;  a  new  and 
deeper  sense  of  human  fellowship ;  an  aspiration  for 
a  veritable  human  brotherhood. 

Men  were  longing,  first  of  all,  for  some  certitude 
in  religion.  Certitude  was  the  one  thing  they  did 
not  find  in  the  many  religions  about  them.  They 
failed  to  convince  the  average  man  with  a  convic- 
tion that  lifted  him  above  doubt.  A  balancing  of 
probabilities  was  all  that  most  men  attained  unto, 
concerning   the  great   questions  of  life.     Proba- 


Christianity  in  Evolution       267 

bility  is  a  good  enough  guide  in  ordinary  matters, 
but  as  the  staff  on  which  to  lean  under  the  trials  of 
life,  as  the  strength  by  which  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tions of  life,  as  the  comfort  in  which  to  meet  death 
itself — probability  is  a  poor  enough  satisfaction  for 
such  crises  of  the  soul.  This  was  the  pathos  of  the 
age,  that  men  everywhere  longing,  as  men  in  all 
times  must  long,  for  some  certitude,  groped  around 
as  in  the  dark  to  find  only  shrewd  guesses  and 
happy  divinations  and'learned  philosophizings  and 
oracular  messages  which  baffled,  while  alluring — 
a  will-o- the- wisp  light,  which  guided  men  only  to 
disappoint  them.  Pilate's  question  bespoke  the 
skepticism  of  the  age — ''what  is  truth?"  Cicero 
sets  forth  the  doctrines  of  the  various  philosophers 
concerning  the  human  soul,  and  adds:  "Which  of 
these  opinions  may  be  true,  a  god  may  know; 
which  may  be  only  probable  is  a  difficult  question. " 
Seneca,  the  great  Roman  stoic  and  statesman, 
sighs — ''Ah!  if  one  only  might  have  a  guide  to 
truth."  "We  will  wait,"  Plato  had  said  long 
before,  "for  One,  be  it  a  god  or  a  god-inspired 
man,  to  teach  us  our  religious  duties,  and,  as 
Athene  in  Homer  says  to  Diomed,  to  take  away 


268  Catholicity 

the  darkness  from  our  eyes."  As  the  same  great 
philosopher,  in  a  famous  passage,  writes  again — 
"We  must  lay  hold  of  the  best  human  opinion  in 
order  that,  borne  by  it  as  on  a  raft,  we  may  sail 
over  the  dangerous  sea  of  life ;  unless  we  can  find  a 
stronger  boat,  or  some  word  of  God,  which  will 
more  surely  and  safely  carry  us."'  A  raft  is  a 
poor  makeshift  for  a  shipwreck.  If  nothing  better 
is  found,  by  all  means  let  us  take  to  the  raft.  But 
none  will  so  long  for  a  staunch  boat,  as  he  who 
clings  to  the  raft,  amid  the  buffetings  of  the  great 
billows.  So,  men,  clinging  as  for  their  life,  to  the 
best  human  opinion  that  they  could  gain,  scan  the 
horizon  for  some  strong  word  of  God  coming  to 
their  rescue,  upon  which  they  might  surely  and 
safely  float  across  the  waves  of  this  troublesome 
life,  and  find  themselves  in  the  haven  where  they 
would  be.  One  of  the  leaders  of  the  new  Platon- 
ism,  Porphyry,  made  a  collection  of  pagan  oracles 
and  great  spiritual  words,  in  the  preface  to  which, 
he  says: 

'  For  this  and  several  later  quotations  from  philosophers  of  the 
period,  convenient  reference  may  be  made  to  Uhlhorn's  "  Conflict 
of  Christianity  with  Heathenism. " 


Christianity  in  Evolution       269 

Those  will  best  recognize  the  usefulness  of  this  col- 
lection who,  in  their  longing  for  truth,  have  prayed 
that  they  might  enjoy  a  vision  of  the  Gods,  in  order 
that  they  might  find  rest  from  their  doubts  in  teachings 
which  emanated  from  trustworthy  authority. 

"Rest  from  their  doubts" — this  was  the  great 
longing  of  the  age  in  religion.  That  they  might 
find  rest  from  their  doubts  men  had  come,  at 
length,,  to  feel  that  they  must  somewhere  find 
"teachings  which  emanated  from  trustworthy 
authority." 

This  was  what  men  found,  to  the  satisfaction 
of  their  souls,  in  Christianity.  They  rested  from 
their  doubts.  They  gained  a  clear  vision  of  God. 
They  found  a  strong  word  of  God  on  which  they 
might  safely  make  the  voyage  of  life.  They  found 
a  source  of  trustworthy  authority.  Wherever 
one  turns  in  the  literature  of  early  Christianity 
he  is  impressed  with  this  sense  of  the  immense 
relief  that  came  to  men's  souls  in  gaining  a  new 
and  reasonable  certitude  where  all  had  been 
problematical  before.  "I  know  in  whom  I  have 
believed" — that  is  the  conviction  that  takes  pos- 
session of  men's  souls.     This  is  life  eternal,  that 


270  Catholicity 

they  might  know  the  only  true  God — this  was  the 
new  faith  which  was  more  than  faith,  which  was 
knowledge.  The  clouds  broke  over  the  earth. 
The  sun  shone  through  the  fog.  Men  basked  in 
the  light  of  clear  and  certain  conviction.  And 
the  religion  which  brought  this  certitude  to  men 
carried  all  men  with  it. 

Men  were  longing  for  clearness  and  certitude  in 
their  conception  of  God.  Everywhere  the  world 
was  reaching  towards  one  and  the  same  thought  of 
God — His  unity  and  His  goodness.  This  was  the 
trend  felt  in  every  great  religion  of  antiquity. 
This  was  the  truth,  clearly  seen  ahead,  by  the  few 
elect  souls  of  earth.  It  was  plain  that  all  the  great 
religions  were  evolving  this  faith.  But  it  had  been 
reached  by  the  few  alone.  It  remained  still  one 
of  the  secrets  of  the  hidden  wisdom  of  paganism. 
The  mass  of  men  groped  still  in  the  darkness  con- 
cerning the  unity  of  God  and  concerning  His  char- 
acter. The  mass  of  men  were  still  Polytheistic, 
believing  in  many  gods.  The  face  of  God  had  not 
cleared  above  the  soul  of  man,  revealing  a  vision 
of  the  Eternal,  Who  loveth  righteousness.  The 
children  of  men  still  felt  themselves  orphaned  upon 


Christianity  in  Evolution       271 

the  earth,  feeling  after  God,  if,  happily,  they  might 
find  Him,  but  not  yet  finding  Him  as  the  Father 
of  their  souls. 

In  Christianity  men  found  all  these  tendencies 
of  religion  culminating  in  a  clear  and  certain  con- 
ception of  God  as  the  One  living  and  true  God, 
good  and  just  and  loving.  Pagans  turned  to  their 
Christian  friends  and  found  them  believing,  with  a 
serene  and  sunny  conviction,  in  one  God,  and  in 
that  God  as  our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven.  All 
the  deepest  spiritual  longings  of  their  souls  were 
promised  satisfaction  in  this  faith  of  the  Christians. 
To  it  they  turned,  with  a  joy  that  we  can  even  now 
realize  as  we  think  over  their  thoughts  again. 

The  first  of  the  Grecian  philosophers  to  become 
a  convert  to  Christianity  tells  us  in  his  writings 
of  his  vain  wanderings  through  the  schools  of  the 
philosophers  in  search  of  certainty  and  peace  of 
mind  in  the  knowledge  of  the  living  God. 

A  stoic,  under  whose  instruction  he  first  placed  him- 
self, asserted  that  the  sure  knowledge  of  God,  which 
Justin  chiefly  longed  for,  was  a  subordinate  question  of 
philosophical  speculation.  A  peripatetic,  of  whom  he 
next  inquired,  demanded,  after  a  few  days,  as  of  pri-. 


272  Catholicity 

mary  importance,  that  he  should  settle  the  fee.  This 
repelled  Justin,  and  he  went  to  a  Pythagorean,  who  dis- 
missed him  immediately,  because  he  had  no  knowledge 
of  music,  geometry  and  astronomy,  an  acquaintance 
with  which  the  Pythagorean  declared  was  pre-requisite 
to  the  study  of  philosophy,  since  they  are  the  means  by 
which  the  soul,  absorbed  in  earthly  things,  may  be 
purified.  Justin  then  turned  to  a  Platonist,  and  sup- 
posed that  he  had  reached  the  goal,  for  his  teacher 
introduced  him  to  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  ideas,  and 
the  pupil  already  dreamed  that  he  had  become  a  sage 
and  was  near  to  the  vision  of  Deity.  Then,  walking 
alone  one  day  on  the  shore  of  the  sea,  he  met  an  old 
man,  a  mature  Christian,  and  fell  into  conversa- 
tion with  him  on  divine  things.  The  venerable  man 
showed  him  that  God  can  be  perceived  only  by  a  mind 
sanctified  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  so  affected  him 
that  all  at  once  his  proud  dream  of  knowledge  van- 
ished. The  old  man,  seeing  his  consternation,  pointed 
him  to  the  Divine  Word  as  the  source  of  all  true  knowl- 
edge of  God,  and  began  to  tell  him  of  Christ.  Fol- 
lowing these  hints,  Justin  found  in  Christianity 
that  sure  knowledge  of  God  which  he  had  sought  for 
in  vain  in  the  different  schools  of  philosophers. ' 

In  his  lectures  on  "The  Science  of  Religion," 
(page  171)  Max  Miiller  sets  forth  this  fact  in  a 
very  noble  passage : 

I  Uhlhorn,  pages  155-156. 


Christianity  in  Evolution       273 

In  exploring  together  the  ancient  archives  of  lan- 
guage, we  found  that  the  highest  god  had  received  the 
same  name  in  the  ancient  mythology  of  India,  Greece, 
Italy,  and  Germany,  and  had  retained  that  name 
whether  worshiped  on  the  Himalayan  mountains,  or 
among  the  oaks  of  Dodona,  on  the  Capitol,  or  in  the 
forests  of  Germany.  I  pointed  out  that  his  name  was 
Dyaus  in  Sanskrit,  Zeus  in  Greek,  Jovis  in  Latin,  Tin 
in  German ;  but  I  hardly  dwelt  with  sufficient  strength 
on  the  startling  nature  of  this  discovery.  These 
names  are  not  mere  names;  they  are  historical  facts, 
aye,  facts  more  immediate,  more  trustworthy,  than 
many  facts  of  mediaeval  history.  These  words  are 
not  mere  words,  but  they  bring  before  us,  with  all  the 
vividness  of  an  event  which  we  witnessed  ourselves 
but  yesterday,  the  ancestors  of  the  whole  Aryan  race, 
thousands  of  years  it  may  be  before  Homer  and  the 
Veda,  worshiping  an  unseen  Being,  under  the  self- 
same name,  the  best,  the  most  exalted  name,  they 
could  find  in  their  vocabulary — under  the  name  of 
Light  and  Sky. 

And  let  us  not  turn  away,  and  say  that  this  was  after 
all  but  nature- worship  and  idolatry.  No,  it  was  not 
meant  for  that,  though  it  may  have  been  degraded  into 
that  in  later  times ;  Dyaus  did  not  mean  the  blue  sky, 
nor  was  it  simply  the  sky  personified — it  was  meant  for 
something  else.  We  have  in  the  Veda  the  invocation 
Dyaus  pilar,  the  Greek  Zeus  pater,  the  Latin  Jupiter; 
and  that  means  in  all  the  three  languages  what  it 
meant  before  these  three  languages  were  torn  asunder 
18 


274  Catholicity 

— it  means  Heaven-Father!  These  two  words  are 
not  mere  words:  they  are  to  my  mind  the  oldest  poem, 
the  oldest  prayer  of  mankind,  or  at  least  of  that  pure 
branch  of  it  to  which  we  belong, — and  I  am  as  firmly 
convinced  that  this  prayer  was  uttered,  that  this  name 
was  given  to  the  unknown  God  before  Sanskrit  was 
Sanskrit  and  Greek  was  Greek,  as,  when  I  see  the 
Lord's  Prayer  in  the  languages  of  Polynesia  and 
Melanesia,  I  feel  certain  that  it  was  first  uttered  in  the 
language  of  Jerusalem.  .  .  . 

Thousands  of  years  have  passed  since  the  Aryan 
nations  separated  to  travel  to  the  North  and  the  South, 
the  West  and  the  East;  they  have  each  formed  their 
languages,  they  have  each  founded  empires  and  phi- 
losophies, they  have  each  built  temples  and  razed  them 
to  the  ground;  they  have  all  grown  older,  and  it  may 
be  wiser  and  better;  but  when  they  search  for  a  name 
for  what  is  most  exalted  and  yet  most  dear  to  every 
one  of  us,  when  they  wish  to  express  both  awe  and  love, 
the  infinite  and  the  finite,  they  can  but  do  what  their 
old  fathers  did  when  gazing  up  to  the  eternal  sky,  and 
feeling  the  presence  of  a  Being  as  far  as  far,  and  as 
near  as  near  can  be;  they  can  but  combine  the  self- 
same words,  and  utter  once  more  the  primeval  Aryan 
prayer,  Heaven-Father,  in  that  form  which  will  endure 
forever,  "Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven." 

Men  were  longing  for  certitude  concerning 
Immortality.     It  was  a  universal  faith — but  it  was 


Christianity  in  Evolution       275 

a  faith  which  failed  to  thoroughly  persuade  men 
and  lead  them  into  its  joy  and  power.  The  few 
elite  souls  of  earth  again  had  satisfied  themselves 
of  this  truth,  beyond  a  perad venture,  and  sunned 
their  souls  in  the  light  of  it.  But  to  the  mass  of 
men  it  was  clouded  over  with  doubt. 

In  that  immortal  picture  of  the  last  hours  of 
Socrates  with  his  disciples,  Plato  represents  Socra- 
tes asking  his  friends,  after  he  had  reasoned  with 
them  concerning  immortality,  "What  they  thought 
of  the  argument  and  whether  there  was  anything 
wanting."  To  which,  Simmias  replied — "I  must 
confess,  vSocrates,  that  doubts  did  arise  in  our 
minds,  and  each  of  us  was  urging  and  inciting  the 
other  to  put  the  question  which  we  wanted  to  have 
answered  and  which  neither  of  us  liked  to  ask, 
fearing  that  our  importunity  might  be  troublesome 
at  such  a  time  as  this. "  Encouraged  by  Socrates, 
to  speak  frankly  of  his  doubts,  Simmias  replied — 
"I  dare  say  that  you,  Socrates,  feel  as  I  do,  how 
very  hard  or  almost  impossible  is  the  attainment 
of  any  certainty  about  questions  such  as  these  in 
the  present  life." 

The  Emperor  Julian  writes  in  one  place — ''I  am 


276  Catholicity 

not  one  of  those  who  disbelieve  the  immortality  of 
the  soul:  but  the  gods  alone  can  know;  man  can 
only  conjecture  that  secret." 

In  a  once  popular  book  of  the  early  Church,  a 
kind  of  romance,  dating  from  the  middle  of  the 
second  century  and  entitled  ''The  Clementine 
Homilies, ' '  Clement  of  Rome  is  represented  as  tell- 
ing the  history  of  his  conversion  to  Christianity. 

From  my  earliest  youth  I  thought  much  concerning 
death,  and  of  what  may  be  after  death.  When  I  die, 
shall  I  cease  to  exist,  and  be  remembered  no  more? 
Has  the  world  been  made,  and  what  was  there  before 
it  was  made?  In  order  to  learn  something  definite 
about  these  and  similar  questions,  I  used  to  resort  to 
the  schools  of  philosophers.  But  naught  else  did  I 
see  than  the  setting  up  and  knocking  down  of  doctrines, 
and  strifes  and  contentions,  and  artificial  reasonings 
and  invention  of  premises.  Now  the  opinion  pre- 
vailed that  the  soul  is  immortal,  now  that  it  is  mortal. 
If  the  former,  I  was  glad ;  if  the  latter,  I  was  sorrowful. 
Perceiving  that  opinions  were  deemed  true  or  false 
according  to  the  ability  of  those  who  maintained 
them,  and  not  according  to  their  real  nature,  I  was 
more  than  ever  perplexed.  Wherefor  I  groaned  from 
the  depths  of  my  soul.  For  neither  was  I  able  to 
establish  anything,  nor  could  I  refrain  from  solicitude 
concerning  such  themes.     And  again,  I  said  to  myself : 


Christianity  in  Evolution        ^11 

Why  do  I  labor  in  vain?  If  I  am  not  to  live  after 
death  I  need  not  distress  myself  now  while  I  am  alive. 
I  will  reserve  my  grief  till  that  day  when,  ceasing  to 
exist,  I  shall  cease  to  be  sad.  But  if  I  am  to  exist, 
of  what  advantage  is  it  to  me  now  to  distress  myself? 
And  immediately  another  thought  came  to  me: 
Shall  I  not  suffer  worse  there  than  now?  If  I  do  not 
live  piously,  shall  I  not  be  tormented  like  Sisyphus 
and  Ixion  and  Tantalus?  And  again  I  replied — But 
there  is  no  truth  in  such  stories.  But  if  there  be? 
Therefore,  said  I,  since  the  matter  is  uncertain,  it  is 
safer  for  me  to  live  piously.  But  I  am  not  fully  per- 
suaded what  is  that  righteous  thing  that  is  pleasing 
to  God,  neither  do  I  know  whether  the  soul  is  immortal 
or  mortal,  nor  do  I  find  any  sure  doctrine,  nor  can  I 
abstain  from  such  reasonings.  What  am  I  to  do?  I 
will  go  into  Egypt,  and  seek  and  find  a  magician,  and 
will  persuade  him  with  large  bribes  to  conjure  up  a 
soul.  And  so  I  shall  learn,  by  ocular  proof  whether 
the  soul  is  immortal. 

At  last  Clement  found  what  he  had  so  long 
sought.  Hearing  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  find  them  out  and  learn  from 
them.  He  first  found  Barnabas.  That  which 
most  impressed  him  in  the  preaching  of  Barnabas 
was  the  fact  that  he  did  not  concern  himself  with 
the  objections  of  the  philosophers,   their  subtle 


21^  Catholicity 

questions  and  their  ridicule  of  his  simple  and  il- 
logical discourses,  but  that  he  calmly  declared  such 
things  as  he  had  heard  and  seen  Jesus  do  and  say. 
vSuch  things  as  he  had  heard  and  seen  Jesus  do 
and  say — herein  lay  the  power  of  the  Apostolic 
preaching. 

This  was  the  pathetic  and  tragic  longing  of  the 
soul  of  man  which  was  met  so  satisfactorily  in 
Christianity.  The  pagans,  thus  longing  for  some 
certitude  concerning  the  life  to  come,  turned  to 
their  Christian  friends  and  found  them  rejoicing 
in  an  absolute  conviction — a  conviction  that  sus- 
tained them  under  all  the  trials  of  life,  and  which 
enabled  them  to  go  to  the  stake,  not  only  willingly, 
but  joyously;  which  made  them  covet  martyrdom 
as  the  greatest  gift  and  blessing  of  life.  Perplexed 
and  doubting  pagans  saw  these  unlettered  Chris- 
tians thrown  into  the  arena,  to  be  devoured  by 
wild  beasts,  with  an  expression  upon  their  faces  of 
serene  and  seraphic  bliss  that  told  the  tale  of  the 
inner  certitude  in  which  they  went  to  meet  death 
hungrily.  One  of  the  first  philosophically  minded 
pagans  to  become  converted  to  Christianity  was 
also  one  of  the  first  martyrs  of  the  young  Church. 


Christianity  in  Evolution       279 

Justin  the  Martyr  was  denounced  before  the  pre- 
fect of  his  city  as  a  Christian,  and  was  brought 
before  Junius  Rusticus  for  examination.  He 
"  quietly  explained  who  he  was  and  what  was  his 
occupation;  that  he  had  himself  sought  and  found 
the  truth,  and  that  now  when  any  one  canie  to 
him  he  communicated  to  him  the  teachings  of  the 
truth.  'Art  thou  not,  then,  a  Christian?'  asked 
the  Prefect;  and  Justin  replied:  'Yes,  I  am  a 
Christian.'  .  .  .  The  Prefect  turned  again  to  Justin, 
and  asked  mockingly:  'Listen,  thou  who  art  called 
learned,  and  believest  that  thou  knowest  the  true 
doctrines,  art  thou  persuaded  that  when  thou  shalt 
have  been  scourged  and  beheaded,  thou  wilt  then 
ascend  into  Heaven?'  'I  hope,'  replied  Justin, 
'to  receive  Christ's  gracious  gift,  when  I  shall  have 
endured  all  those  things.'  'Thou  really  thinkest, 
then,  that  thou  wilt  ascend  into  Heaven,  and  there 
receive  a  recompense?*  asked  the  Prefect  yet  more 
scornfully.  'I  not  merely  think  so,  but  I  know 
and  am  thoroughly  convinced  of  it,'  answered 
Justin."  ' 

That  this  was  no  momentary  exaltation  of  the 

*  Uhlhom,  page  290. 


28o  Catholicity 

martyr  is  clear  from  the  whole  tenor  of  the  litera- 
ture of  the  early  Church,  which  was  pervaded  with 
this  same  serene  and  sunny  confidence  in  immor- 
tality. It  is  clear  from  a  study  of  the  Catacombs 
— at  once  the  meeting-places  and  the  burial-places 
of  the  early  Christians.  There,  on  every  hand, 
are  still  to  be  seen  the  funereal  symbols  of  the 
pagan  world — expressing,  one  and  all,  the  conster- 
nation and  dismay,  the  doubt  and  horror,  which 
filled  the  souls  of  men  in  the  presence  of  death. 
By  their  side  we  see  the  new  symbols  of  the  new 
faith — the  carved  and  graven  signs  in  the  rocks  of 
the  jo}^  and  the  peace  in  believing  with  which  the 
Christians  met  the  same  death. 

Everywhere  in  the  pagan  faiths  the  better  men 
were  longing  for  a  nobler  and  more  earnest  life; 
for  a  clearer  vision  of  what  life  should  be,  and  for 
a  fresh  and  stronger  power  to  attain  that  life. 
The  sense  of  sin  which  was  stealing  across  the  world 
had  awakened  a  hunger  and  a  thirst  after  right- 
eousness, a  longing  for  goodness,  such  as  the  ear- 
lier paganism  had  little  known.  Even  where  there 
was  an  intellectual  knowledge  of  the  higher  ethical 
life  for  which  men  were  longing,  as  notably  among 


Christianity  in  Evolution        281 

the  Stoics,  there  was  Httle  power  to  realize  that 
nobler  life.  You  will  not  find  in  Paul  clearer  and 
stronger  declarations  concerning  the  true  life  of 
man  than  you  will  find  in  Seneca,  the  great  Roman 
Stoic.  But  Paul's  life  was  all  of  a  piece — a  con- 
sistent whole ;  a  devotion  of  his  powers  to  the  pur- 
suit and  attainment  of  the  character  which  he 
outlined  so  loftily  in  his  letters;  a  victory  in  which 
he  won  that  for  which  he  longed.  Seneca's  life, 
on  the  other  hand,  betrays  that  wretched  duality 
of  aspiration  and  conduct  which  shows  that  the 
moral  power  was  lacking. 

The  astonishing  vogue  of  the  Mysteries  is  ex- 
plainable only  by  their  partial  satisfaction  of  this 
newly  awakened  hunger  of  the  soul  of  man  for  a 
more  earnest  moral  life,  for  freedom  from  sin,  for 
the  attainment  of  holiness. 

A  part  of  this  aspiration  was  a  longing  for  truer 
and  closer  bonds  of  brotherhood.  Realizing,  as 
antiquity  had  not  done,  the  enormity  of  the  class 
divisions  which  were  growing  up  in  the  Empire, 
the  new  sweet  sense  of  humanity  reached  out  in 
longings  for  fellowship  and  fraternity.  This  was 
the  object  set  before  them  by  the  secret  societies 


282  Catholicity 

of  workingmen  throughout  the  Empire.  To  a 
considerable  extent  the  members  of  these  Httle 
brotherhoods  did  enter  upon  some  truer  fraternity. 
But  the  power  to  spread  the  enthusiasm  of  hu- 
manity seemed  lacking.  The  great  world  outside 
these  little  brotherhoods  went  on  in  the  old  com- 
petition, in  the  ancient  selfishness. 

This  longing  of  the  soul  of  man  was  met  in 
Christianity.  Earnest  pagans,  dissatisfied  with 
their  life  and  clouded  in  their  aspirations,  longing 
for  something  better  but  failing  to  find  the  power 
to  achieve  it,  turned  to  their  Christian  friends  and 
found  in  them  the  clear  vision  of  man's  true  life 
and  the  power  to  attain  that  life.  The  Emperor 
Julian,  in  his  attempt  to  restore  and  reform  pagan- 
ism, writes  to  the  High  Priest  of  Galatia  urging 
him  to  stir  the  priesthood  of  the  old  religion  to  an 
imitation  of  the  Christians.  The  intensely  earnest 
Emperor  bids  his  High  Priest  see  that  the  ministers 
under  him  emulate  the  Christians  in  "their  holi- 
ness of  life."  The  younger  Pliny,  writing  to  the 
Emperor  Tragan  concerning  the  Christians  in 
Bithynia  over  which  he  was  Governor,  declares 
that  ''they  further  bound  themselves  by  an  oath" 


Christianity  in  Evolution       283 

(plainly,  the  Baptismal  vow)  ''never  to  commit 
any  crime,  but  to  abstain  from  robbery,  theft, 
impurity;  never  to  break  their  word  nor  to  deny 
a  trust  when  summoned  to  deliver  it."  Speaking 
of  one  of  the  early  persecutions,  Dean  Milman,  in 
his  "History  of  Christianity,"  declares  "that  the 
chief  honors  of  this  memorable  martyrdom  were 
assigned  to  a  female,  a  slave.  Blandina  shared 
in  all  the  most  excruciating  sufferings  of  the  most 
distinguished  victims;  she  equalled  them  in  the 
calm  and  unpretending  superiority  to  every  pain 
which  malice,  irritated  and  licensed,  as  it  were, 
to  exceed,  if  it  were  possible,  its  own  barbarities 
on  the  person  of  a  slave,  could  invent.  She  was 
selected  by  the  peculiar  vengeance  of  the  prosecu- 
tors, whose  astonishment  probably  increased  their 
malignity,  for  new  and  unprecedented  tortures, 
which  she  bore  with  the  same  equable  magna- 
nimity. .  .  .  The  wearied  executioners  wondered 
that  her  life  could  endure  under  the  horrid  suc- 
cession of  torments  which  they  inflicted.  Blan- 
dina's  only  reply  was — 'I  am  a  Christian,  and  no 
wickedness  is  practiced  among  us. ' " 

The  Apologies  presented  to  the  Emperors  by 


284  Catholicity 

the  first  philanthropic  champions  of  Christianity, 
dwelt  at  length  upon  this  singular  fact  concern- 
ing the  early  Christians.  Athenagoras,  addressing 
the  heathen,  pleads — "You  can  find  uneducated 
persons,  artisans  and  old  women,  who,  if  they  are 
unable  in  words  to  prove  the  benefit  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine,  yet  by  their  deeds  exhibit  the  benefit 
arising  from  their  choice. " 

One  of  the  noblest  writings  of  the  early  Church 
is  a  letter  of  an  unknown  author  to  a  certain  Di- 
ognetus.  It  contains  a  classic  description  of  the 
new  life  of  this  new  sect. 

For  the  Christians  are  distinguished  from  other  men 
neither  by  country,  nor  language,  nor  the  customs 
which  they  observe.  For  they  neither  inhabit  cities 
of  their  own,  nor  employ  a  peculiar  form  of  speech, 
nor  lead  a  life  which  is  marked  out  by  any  singularity. 
.  .  .  But,  inhabiting  Greek  as  well  as  barbarian 
cities,  according  as  the  lot  of  each  of  them  has  deter- 
mined, and  following  the  customs  of  the  natives  in 
respect  to  clothing,  food,  and  the  rest  of  their  ordinary 
conduct,  they  display  to  us  their  wonderful  and  con- 
fessedly striking  method  of  life.  They  dwell  in  their 
own  countries,  but  simply  as  sojourners.  As  citizens, 
they  share  in  all  things  with  others,  and  yet  endure  all 
things  as  if  foreigners.     Every  foreign  land  is  to  them 


.  Christianity  in  Evolution        285 

as  their  native  country,  and  every  land  of  their  birth 
as  a  land  of  strangers.  They  marry,  as  do  all;  they 
have  children;  but  they  do  not  destroy  their  offspring. 
They  have  a  common  table  but  not  a  common  bed. 
They  are  in  the  flesh,  but  they  do  not  live  after  the 
flesh.  They  pass  their  days  on  earth,  but  they  are 
citizens  of  Heaven.  They  obey  the  prescribed  laws, 
and  at  the  same  time  surpass  the  laws  by  their  lives. 
They  love  all  men,  and  are  persecuted  by  all.  They 
are  unknown  and  condemned;  they  are  put  to  death, 
and  restored  to  life.  They  are  poor,  yet  make  many 
rich;  they  are  in  lack  of  all  things,  and  yet  abound  in 
all;  they  are  dishonored,  and  yet  in  their  very  dis- 
honor are  glorified.  They  are  evil  spoken  of,  and  yet 
are  justified;  they  are  reviled,  and  bless;  they  are 
insulted,  and  repay  the  insult  with  honor;  they  do  good, 
yet  are  punished  as  evil-doers.  When  punished,  they 
rejoice  as  if  quickened  into  life;  they  are  assailed  by 
the  Jews  as  foreigners,  and  are  persecuted  by  the 
Greeks;  yet  those  who  hate  them  are  unable  to  assign 
any  reason  for  their  hatred.  ^ 

The  beliefs  of  the  early  Christians  were  thus 
seen  in  definite  application.  Their  faith  found 
expression  in  socialism — a  contrast  to  the  usages 
of  the  times  that  challenged  attention  and  respect. 
Record  has  been  made  in  earlier  chapters  of  their 

^  "Apostolic  Fathers,"  vol.  L,  page  307. — Ante-Nicene  Chris- 
tian Library. 


286  Catholicity 

development  of  the  older  custom  of  the  secret 
supper.  And  this  the  Christians  adapted  and 
sanctified  into  a  memorial  of  the  Last  Supper, 
perpetuating  a  Holy  Communion.  The  Holy  Com- 
munion was  their  true  communion;  the  true  com- 
munion conceived  the  true  commonwealth.  The 
idea  was  brought  to  a  practice  of  ''what's  thine's 
mine;  what's  mine's  thine,"  and  those  who  ob- 
served could  see  that  this  was  really  lived.  And 
so  it  was  reported:  "All  that  believed  were  to- 
gether and  had  all  things  common:  sold  their 
possessions  and  goods  and  parted  them  to  all  men, 
as  every  man  had  need. "  For  was  not  their  Christ 
the  first  representative  of  the  people?  He  walked 
with  the  highest  and  the  lowest,  and  was  brother 
to  one  as  much  as  to  the  other ;  he  shared  with  his 
fellows,  nor  craved  possessions  beyond  his  needs; 
he  lived  for  aims  that  called  not  for  material  riches ; 
he  preached  the  cause  of  the  people,  while  he  led 
the  citizens  in  their  duties  to  authority  and  their 
obligations  to  life.  In  all  ways  he  championed  the 
needy,  and  brought  all  men  together  in  a  brother- 
hood that  builded  upon  love — the  foundation  of 
commonwealth,  the  symbol  of  communion. 


Christianity  in  Evolution        287 

How  did  all  this  come  about  in  Christianity? 

There  could  have  been  but  one  answer  to  this 
question,  as  we  see  from  all  the  analogies  of  his- 
tory.  Ethical  and  spiritual  religions  start  from 
a  personal  founder.  Nature  worships  originate 
without  personal  founders.  They  need  none.  They 
grow  out  of  man's  recognition  of  the  mystery 
of  power  in  Nature.  They  are  not  distinctively 
ethical  or  spiritual.  But  the  religion  which  grows 
out  of  man's  recognition  of  a  moral  power  within 
him,  of  a  spiritual  nature  out  of  which  he  has 
spnmg  and  towards  which  he  is  to  aspire — such 
a  religion  must  needs  grow  out  of  some  personal 
life  embodying  this  moral  earnestness  and  living 
in  this  spiritual  consciousness.  Religions  of  this 
kind,  then,  arise  in  a  life;  the  life  is  the  light  of 
men.  So  we  can  trace  the  story  of  all  great  ethical 
and  spiritual  religions  from  an  Abraham,  a  Moses, 
a  Zoroaster,  a  Buddha,  a  Mohammed.  A  living 
man  attains  in  his  own  spirit  the  consciousness  of 
certitude  amid  the  infinite  and  eternal  mysteries; 
he  enters  into  the  consciousness  of  the  Infinite 
and  Divine  Presence;  he  sees,  through  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  the  life  which  lies  beyond ; 


288  Catholicity 

he  recognizes  the  supreme  power  in  life  as  the  moral 
law  within,  and  enshrines  that  law  in  a  fleshly 
tabernacle,  living,  himself,  as  a  manifestation  of 
that  God,  Who  is  Goodness. 

There  must  have  been  a  personal  founder  for 
Christianity  whose  life  constituted  the  new  re- 
ligion. If  we  did  not  find  him  in  history  we  vshould 
have  to  discover  him.  We  should  be  absolutely 
sure  that  he  was  there,  as  the  fact  out  of  which 
Christianity  arose.  ^ 

We  do  know  of  him.  The  whole  outer  body  of 
Christianity  bears  his  imprint.  He  has  enstamped 
his  personality  upon  Christianity,  indelibly.  The 
Sacred  Books  of  Christianity,  the  New  Testament 
writings,  are  full  of  him  from  beginning  to  end: 
the  story  of  his  life  in  the  Gospels ;  the  exposition 
of  his  teachings  in  the  Epistles ;  the  inspiration  of 
hfe  which  flowed  from  his  life,  through  every  word 
uttered  by  every  Apostle  and   Disciple,  through 

^  Dr.  G.  Stanley  Hall  says  in  his  book,  "Jesus,  the  Christ,  in 
the  Light  of  Psychology  ":  "If  pragmatic  is  higher  than  either 
historic  or  theoretic  certainty  and  reality,  we  have  here  the  very 
truth  of  truth.  There  are  in  citations  within  us  which  give  us 
psychic  orientation  to  Jesus,  and  even  if  his  historical  existence 
were  disproven,  we  should  have  to  postulate  some  such  person  at 
about  this  time,  place  and  circumstance. " 


Christianity  in  Evolution       289 

every  life  lived  by  the  followers  of  this  Master. 
The  institutions  of  Christianity  testify  to  him. 
The  Church  bears  his  name.  It  is  the  abiding 
witness  to  the  fact  that  he  has  lived.  Were  there 
no  other  attestation  of  his  having  been  an  histori- 
cal fact,  this  one  would  amply  suffice.  The  cen- 
tral sacrament  of  the  Church  points,  by  tradition, 
to  his  own  personal  institution.  It  is  a  personal 
memorial  of  the  founder  of  Christianity.  The 
symbolisms  of  the  Church  point  to  him.  The 
most  sacred  sign  in  our  Christian  symbolism  is  the 
sign  of  the  cross — the  instrument  of  his  crucifixion. 
The  two  great  Creeds  of  the  Church  embody,  as 
their  central  article  of  belief,  the  Church's  abiding 
recognition  of  the  fact  of  his  life. 

A  carpenter's  son  of  Nazareth  of  Galilee  so 
lived  that  his  life  became  the  embodiment  of 
a  new  religion.  Amid  the  infinite  and  eternal  mys- 
teries no  doubt  shadowed  him,  no  cloud  chilled 
him,  no  fog  perplexed  him.  He  was  serenely  sure, 
calmly  confident,  walking  in  an  abiding  certitude. 
"We  speak  that  which  we  do  know,  and  testify 
that  which  we  have  seen."     His  conviction  was 

more  than  a  faith — it  was  a  knowledge.     It  was 
19 


290  Catholicity 

an  immediate  intuition.  It  was  an  open  conscious- 
ness. In  him  the  human  consciousness,  which  in 
the  rest  of  men  has  attained  to  self-consciousness, 
opened  into  God  consciousness.  He  was  as  con- 
scious of  God  as  the  normal  person  is  conscious  of 
himself. 

God  was  to  him  the  one  living  and  true  God.; 
a  being  infinitely  pure  and  holy,  just  and  good; 
the  Eternal  who  loveth  righteousness;  the  source 
and  spring  of  our  being;  the  moral  and  spiritual 
perfection  towards  which  we  all  aspire ;  the  original 
of  our  nature,  in  whose  image  we  are  made;  Our 
Father  which  art  in  Heaven. 

Death,  to  him,  was  only  a  step  from  the  seen 
world  into  the  unseen;  only  a  link  between  two 
stages  of  being;  only  a  passage  down  into  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  that  thus,  life  may 
rise  into  the  light  of  life.  He  never  argued  about 
immortality — he  assumed  it  as  one  of  the  certitudes 
of  life.  His  own  consciousness  of  immortality 
sealed  itself  in  the  one  historic  attestation  of 
the  continuance  of  life  beyond  the  grave.  As  he 
lifted  the  veil  which  hides  the  other  world  from 
our  sight,  and  passed  behind,  he  turned  again. 


Christianity  in  Evolution       291 

and  holding  that  veil  open,  showed  himself  to 
those  outside — as  living  still.  He  reappeared 
after  death  to  his  disciples,  and  made  them  know 
the  reality  of  his  continued  existence,  and  in  the 
reality  of  his  continued  existence,  the  reality  of 
immortality  for  all  men. 

The  life  of  goodness  which  all  men  recognize 
more  or  less  dimly,  and  aspire  unto  more  or  less 
earnestly,  he  saw  clearly  and  realized  habitually. 
Resisting  every  temptation,  mastering  every  sin, 
he  won  the  victory  over  all  evil  and  entered  into 
the  life  of  holiness  here  upon  the  earth.  He  made 
his  human  life  one  with  the  divine  life  in  all  good- 
ness. So  perfect  was  his  life,  that,  in  him,  men 
saw  their  ideals  realized,  their  visions  materialized, 
and  could  frame  no  better  description  of  the  per- 
fect human  life  than  that  it  should  follow  in  the 
blessed  steps  of  his  most  holy  life.  Breathing  all 
sweetness  of  sympathy,  all  gentleness  of  kindness, 
all  depth  of  love,  he  bound  all  men  unto  himself 
in  the  bands  of  a  man,  the  bonds  of  human  brother- 
hood. Men  of  all  races,  of  all  religions,  of  all 
classes,  of  all  conditions,  nay,  of  all  characters,  he 
recognized  as  one  with  himself  in  the  family  of  the 


292  Catholicity 

All  Father,  the  children  with  himself  of  our  Father 
which  art  in  Heaven.  To  the  service  of  his 
brothers,  as  the  child  of  his  Father,  he  freely  gave 
his  life. 

It  was  not  merely  that  he  taught  these  truths — 
taught  men  that  certitude  was  possible,  taught 
men  to  know  God  as  one,  Our  Father  which  art  in 
Heaven,  taught  men  to  know  the  reality  of  im- 
mortality, taught  men  to  know  what  goodness  is, 
and  that  it  is  possible  to  attain  unto  it  here  on 
earth — it  was  far  more  than  this.  Teaching,  as 
never  man  taught  before,  the  truths  of  God,  of 
immortality,  of  human  life;  speaking,  not  as  the 
Scribes  and  the  Pharisees,  but  as  one  having  au- 
thority— he  taught  all  these  truths  in  the  only  way 
in  which  they  can  be  persuasively  taught — by 
living  them.  He,  himself,  was  all  that  he  taught. 
Herein  was  his  power  over  men.  Thus  it  was  that, 
as  men  came  up  to  him  and  touched  him,  they  were 
thrilled  with  his  own  life,  and  became  partakers 
with  him  of  the  divine  nature. 

In  the  Book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Martyrs,  we 
find  the  story  of  the  first  famous  martyrdom, 
the  heroic  end  of  Polycarp.     As  he  stood  on  the 


Christianity  in  Evolution       293 

funeral   pile,   the   venerable    Christian   breathed 
this  prayer: 

Oh,  Lord  God  Almighty,  Father  of  Thy  beloved 
and  blessed  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  we  have 
received  the  knowledge  of  Thee,  the  God  of  angels  and 
powers,  and  of  the  whole  creation  and  of  all  the  race 
of  the  righteous  who  lived  before  Thee,  I  bless  Thee 
that  Thou  hast  counted  me  worthy  of  this  day  and 
this  hour,  that  I  should  have  a  part  in  the  niunber  of 
Thy  witnesses,  in  the  cup  of  Thy  Christ. 

Each  organism,  in  growing,  grows  out  from  and 
around  one  original  germ  cell.  That  one  cell  is 
the  basis  and  beginning  of  the  whole  complex  life 
of  the  developed  organism.  Dividing  and  re- 
dividing  itself,  each  additional  cell  renewing  the 
same  work,  all  the  elements  of  nutrition  absorbed 
into  the  miniature  organism  are  charged  with  its 
vitality,  impressed  with  its  characteristics,  and 
moulded  by  the  form  which  is  shrined  within  it — 
the  unseen  mystery  of  all  existence. 

The  story  of  the  Christian  Church  repeats  the 
story  of  every  organism  of  nature.  The  original 
germ  cell  of  Christianity  was  Jesus  himself.  Forth 
from  him,  and  around  him,  grew  other  cells,  other 


294  Catholicity 

human  personalities,  charged  with  his  Hfe,  breathed 
through  and  through  with  his  spirit,  moulded  after 
his  own  human  form  divine.  In  his  life,  a  few 
souls  touched  him  and  were  vitalized  from  him. 
From  him  they  received  the  new  truth  which  filled 
their  minds — from  him,  the  new  life  which  filled 
their  being.  Each  man  went  forth  to  touch  others 
and  charge  them  anew  with  the  life  which  he  had 
received  from  the  Master.  And  so,  on  and  on 
again,  in  the  successive  touch  of  soul  with  soul,  the 
mystery  of  life  first  breathed  into  humanity  in 
Nazareth  of  Galilee  has  spread  until  we  have  our 
Christianity  today,  eighteen  centuries  after  Christ, 
the  outgrowth  from  his  own  living  personality. 
The  Christian  Church  is  the  body  which  has  grown 
around  the  soul  of  Jesus,  the  Christ  of  God. 
Every  individual  in  that  Church  is  a  cell  in  the 
mighty  organism  of  which  Jesus  is  the  informing 
life.  We  live  still  from  his  life;  we  think  over  his 
thoughts;  we  breathe  again  his  spirit.  We  are 
vitalized,  all  of  us,  from  that  original  germ  cell  of 
human  personality  which  God  fashioned  into  such 
perfect  form  in  Nazareth  of  Galilee. 

The    difference    between  Christianity  and   the 


Christianity  in  Evolution       295 

paganisms  with  which  it  contended,  lay  simply  in 
the  fact  of  this  one  informing,  vitalizing  personality 
which  was  the  force  in  Christianity,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  which  was  the  weakness  of  paganism. 
Despite  every  resemblance  and  parallelism — and 
the  resemblances  and  parallelisms  were,  as  has  been 
seen  in  these  studies,  astonishingly  close, — there 
was  this  essential  difference.  Judaism  held  nearly 
all  the  truths  of  Christianity.  What  it  lacked  was 
power  to  realize  them  and  apply  them;  a  soul 
breathing  within  its  body  and  transforming  every 
member  of  the  organism  into  its  own  nature. 
What  the  devout  Jews  of  the  age  of  Jesus  lacked 
was  the  moral  and  spiritual  power  which  those 
their  fellows  found  who  followed  Jesus  as  the  Mas- 
ter of  life.  Roman  stoicism  held  so  many  of  the 
ethical  truths  of  Christianity  that  we  are  often- 
times perplexed  and  baffled  in  reading  its  masters 
to  find  men  who  saw  so  much  yet  did  not  see  more ; 
who  knew  so  clearly  what  the  right  was,  yet  failed 
so  wretchedly  in  the  power  to  live  it  and  to  live  in 
the  joy  of  it.  The  new  Platonism  held  so  much  of 
the  philosophy  of  Christianity  that,  in  reading  its 
teachings,  we  seem  to  be  reading  our  own  Christian 


296  Catholicity 

philosophizings — only,  with  a  something  missing. 
As  one  of  the  Neo-Platonists  said  when  the  intro- 
duction to  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  was  brought  to 
his  knowledge — "The  barbarian  Platonizes. "  We, 
turning  back  to  his  writings  and  the  writings  of  his 
followers,  can  say — "The  Grecian  Christianizes." 
This  new  Platonism  held  the  orthodox  theology  of 
Christianity,  its  conception  of  the  Divine  Logos, 
or  Thought- Word,  clearly  and  fully  evolved.  It 
could  have  affirmed  the  Nicene  Creed  up  to  the 
point  where  we  affirm — "Who  for  us  men,  and  for 
our  salvation  came  down  from  Heaven,  and  was 
incarnate  by  the  Holy  Ghost  of  the  Virgin  Mary." 
They  could  have  accepted  the  whole  of  the  intro- 
duction of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John,  save 
the  one  vital  clause — "And  The  Word  Was  Made 
Flesh."  It  was  the  Athanasian  philosophy,  but 
Jesus  was  left  out. 

And  leaving  him  out,  the  moral  and  spiritual 
power  was  left  out  which  was  pulsing  through 
Christianity.  Leaving  this  out,  all  else  was  in  vain. 
Wise  men  came  to  recognize  that  there  was  some- 
thing lacking,  and  that  that  was  the  power  of 
a  divinely  human  personality  embodying  man's 


Christianity  in  Evolution       297 

visions  of  goodness,  living  in  conscious  communion 
with  God,  setting  the  pattern  for  all  men,  which 
they  might  follow  as  their  religion.  And  so  came 
the  most  pathetic  picture  of  the  failing  paganism — 
its  attempt,  partly  a  conscious  imitation  of  Chris- 
tianity, partly  an  unconscious  impulse'out  of  which 
grew  the  legend  of  Apollonius  of  Tyana ;  the  story, 
largely  mythical,  of  the  great  pagan  w^ho  lived 
much  as  had  the  great  Jew  who  founded  Chris- 
tianity. Around  the  person  of  Apollonius  of  Ty- 
ana there  grew  up  the  pagan  myth  of  the  divinely 
human  One,  the  Son  of  God,  working  marvels, 
communing  consciously  with  his  unseen  Father, 
healing  the  sick,  mastering  sins — doing  all  that 
Jesus  did.  But  it  was  in  vain.  It  was  only  an 
imitation  of  the  reality,  only  an  echo  of  the  true 
word  of  God. 

What  do  we  make  of  Jesus  himself  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  religion?  Was  he,  too,  an  evolution?  The 
answer  is  both  yes  and  no.  When  the  fullness 
of  the  times  came,  God  sent  forth  His  Son.  This 
classic  word  is  the  affirmation  of  a  reality  in  the 
thought  that  Jesus,  the  Christ  of  God,  is  an  evolu- 
tion.    He  has  come,  in  the  fullness  of  the  times,  as 


298  Catholicity 

the  ripened  flower  and  fruitage  of  the  moral  and 
spiritual  processes  of  development  through  which 
humanity  has  been  led  up  after  God.  He  is  the 
outcome  of  all  the  yearning  of  the  life  of  antiquity. 
There  is  a  false  way  of  stating  the  fact  that  Jesus 
the  Christ  is  the  fulfillment  of  Judaism.  Our 
fathers  so  stated  this  thought  as  to  find  in  ancient 
prophecy  clear  and  conscious  prediction  of  his 
coming — a  prediction  growing  ever  more  and  more 
defined,  ever  more  and  more  minute.  Not  thus 
do  we  look  at  it.  But  we,  too,  can  see  through  the 
whole  story  of  Israel  the  growth  of  a  vision  of  God 
and  the  growth  of  a  conception  of  man,  which 
together  have  found  their  perfect  realization  in 
Jesus  of  Nazareth.  In  this  most  living  sense  He 
is  an  evolution  of  Judaism — its  crown  and  consum- 
mation, its  flower  and  its  fruitage;  that  unto  which 
it  yearned,  that  which  it  was  struggling  to  bring 
into  being;  that  by  which,  in  bringing  into  being, 
its  mission  has  been  fulfilled. 

So  we  do  not  build  our  thought  of  Jesus  as  the 
fulfillment  of  ancient  paganism  upon  a  mystic 
word  of  the  Jewish  writings,  which  pointed  to  him 
as  the  desire  of  all  nations — a  reading  which  we 


Christianity  in  Evolution       299 

can  no  longer  allow.  But  nonetheless  does  he 
prove  himself  to  be  the  desire  of  all  nations — that 
unto  which  all  the  higher  religions  of  antiquity 
reached;  that  thought  of  God,  that  ideal  of  man, 
after  which  one  and  all  strove.  Every  great  re- 
ligion tended  in  one  direction.  The  focal  point 
was  far  beyond  them  all.  That  focal  point  is 
found  in  the  story  of  Jesus — in  his  truth  and  life. 
In  that  truth  and  life  we  read  what  all  were  reach- 
ing forward  to,  what  no  one  clearly  found.  The 
mystic  aspects  of  paganism  justify  themselves  in 
the  light  of  the  story  of  Jesus.  The  hidden  wisdom 
of  paganism  has  become  the  open  secret  of  man- 
kind in  Him.  The  story  of  man's  soul,  as  read 
dimly  in  the  Great  Mysteries  of  Greece  and 
Egypt,  is  now  seen  clearly  in  the  life  of  Jesus  the 
Christ.  In  Him  we  recognize  the  divine  man  in  us 
all,  passing  through  that  sixfold  stage  of  spiritual 
experience — through  baptism,  temptation,  pas- 
sion, burial,  resurrection,  and  ascension  into  the 
life  of  God.  Here  is  the  suffering,  dying,  rising 
God,  the  parable  of  whose  mysterious  being  the 
cosmos  itself  reads  us;  the  hieroglyph  of  whose 
story    the    soul    of    man    pictures.      The    secret 


300  Catholicity 

of  the  ages  is  opened  in  the  story  of  the 
Nazarene. 

Still  for  the  generations  that  are  to  come,  on 
through  the  far  future,  we  must  needs  believe  that 
the  story  of  religion  in  our  Western  World  is  to  be 
the  story  of  the  continued  growth  of  that  mystic 
organism  whose  indwelling  soul  is  the  spirit  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Christ  of  God. 

For  the  individual  the  question  of  religion  is  the 
question  not  of  connection  with  the  outer  body  of 
the  Church  but  of  living  personal  touch  with  the 
soul  which  is  at  the  center  of  that  body,  the  Christ 
of  God.  His  thought  is  the  truth  on  which  we  are 
to  feed.  His  belief  is  the  faith  in  which  we  are  to 
live.  His  consciousness  is  our  certitude.  His  life 
is  our  pattern.  His  spirit  is  our  inspiration.  To 
touch  Him  is  to  thrill  with  the  life  of  God.  To  love 
Him  and  consecrate  our  lives  to  Him  is  to  enter  into 
pure  religion  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the 
Father. 

So  the  bond  of  brotherhood  which  the  world  is 
striving  to  fashion,  in  which  to  bind  up  the  alienat- 
ing classes  and  races  of  mankind  in  good  will  and 
peace,  is  the  cord  of  love  which  that  living  heart 


Christianity  in  Evolution       301 

throws  out  through  all  the  members  of  the  body 
growing  round  it — through  each  one  today,  if  we 
but  let  His  life  flow  into  us. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  narratives  of  heroic 
martyrdom  which  the  early  Church  records  is  the 
tale  of  the  saintly  Felicitas — a  young  mother  who 
met  her  doom  about  the  beginning  of  the  third 
century.  The  whole  story  is  one  of  exquisite 
beauty  and  of  surpassing  nobleness.  While  she 
was  awaiting  the  execution  of  her  sentence  she 
was  in  severe  suffering — a  dangerous  illness  seizing 
her.  For  a  moment  she  gave  way  to  her  sufferings. 
"How  then,"  said  one  of  the  servants  of  the 
prison,  "if  you  cannot  endure  these  pains,  will  you 
endure  exposure  to  the  wild  beasts?"  To  which 
she  replied — "  I  bear  now  my  own  sufferings;  then, 
there  will  be  one  within  me  who  will  bear  my 
sufferings  for  me,  because  I  shall  suffer  for  His 
sake." 


X 

A  SURVIVAL   OF   THE   FITTEST 

The  external  story  of  Christianity  is  explained  in 
the  scientific  phrase — the  survival  of  the  fittest. 
This  is  the  popular  statement  of  the  general  law 
by  which  we  account  for  the  fact  that  some  forms 
of  life  disappear  from  the  earth  while  others  are 
perpetuated,  alike  among  individuals  and  species 
and  genera.  It  is  the  law  of  nature  that  one  shall 
be  taken  and  another  left.  Some  die  and  others 
live;  some  yield  place  to  others  who  thrive.  The 
story  of  life  is  the  story  of  a  struggle  for  existence. 
A  constant  effort  is  necessary  in  order  to  live.  In 
this  effort  one  organism  succeeds  because  it  is 
adapted  to  its  environment,  whereas  another  fails 
because  it  has  not  adjusted  itself  to  its  environ- 
ment. The  adaptation  may  be,  and  generally 
is,  the   result   of  slight,  slow  successive   changes 

wrought  upon  the  organism  in  its  effort  to  get  a 

302 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest       303 

living  out  of  nature.  We  may  not  argue  under 
this  law  that  the  organism  which  survives  is  the 
best  in  itself,  but  only  that  it  is  the  best  under  the 
given  circumstances — the  best  fitted  to  its  con- 
ditions. It  may  not  be  ideally  the  best,  but  only 
practically  the  best.  Yet  the  large  and  general 
result  of  this  struggle,  and  of  the  natural  selection 
of  that  which  is  fittest  to  survive,  is  an  organic 
ascent  of  life.  Somehow  or  other  out  of  this  rude 
equation  there  results  the  progress  which  we  call 
evolution.  Thus  nature  mounts  from  the  clam  to 
man.  The  organic  change  is  necessary  to  enable 
plants  and  animals  to  get  a  living  work  for  higher 
forms  and  types  of  life.  Out  of  this  struggle  for 
existence,  seemingly  so  ignoble,  there  issues  a 
movement  towards  an  ideal.  So  the  survival  of 
the  fittest  becomes,  speaking  bye  and  large,  a 
survival  of  the  best. 

This  is  a  universal  law.  We  are  familiar  with 
it  as  it  holds  over  the  life  of  plants  and  animals; 
we  know  it  as  dominating  over  the  struggle  be- 
tween nations  and  races.  But  we  do  not  quite  so 
quickly  realize  that  it  holds  over  governments  and 
laws  and  institutions,  arts  and  philosophies,  and 


304  Catholicity 

all  the  forms  of  the  noblest  life  of  man.  Yet  is  it 
true  that  every  form  of  human  life  is  in  continual 
struggle  with  rival  forms,  and  out  of  this  clash 
between  ideas  and  institutions  is  evolved  the  pro- 
gress which  we  call  civilization. 

This  law  holds  over  religions.  All  that  goes  to 
the  outward  embodiment  of  religion — institutions, 
rites,  symbols,  worships,  beliefs — are  thus  evolved. 
A  multitudinous  variety  of  more  or  less  similar 
institutions,  rites,  symbols,  worships,  beliefs,  con- 
tend, one  with  another,  and  that  which  is  best 
fitted  to  survive,  survives;  and  out  of  this  survival 
of  the  fittest  there  issues  a  survival  of  the  best,  a 
progress  of  humanity  in  religion. 

History  reveals  the  fact  that  religions  have  been 
in  a  continual  struggle  for  existence  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  until  now.  A  traveler  on 
the  Nile,  stopping  to  examine  its  fascinating  temple 
ruins,  discovers  upon  them  signs  that  one  and  the 
same  temple  has  been  dedicated  at  different  times 
to  different  Gods.  Built  by  one  monarch,  in 
honor  of  some  favorite  deity  to  whom  it  was 
solemnly  consecrated  and  with  whose  name  it  was 
signed  and  sealed,  in  a  later  generation  a  succeed- 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        305 

ing  monarch  has  rededicated  it  to  another  god 
scratching  out  the  previous  inscription  and  en- 
graving the  name  of  the  new  deity  to  whose  honor 
it  has  been  set  aside  afresh.  The  cartouche  of  one 
divinity  is  thus  altered  or  erased  to  make  place  for 
the  cartouche  of  another  divinity.  In  this  historic 
fact  we  have  the  record  of  the  large  movements  of 
historic  religions.  Successive  phases  of  religion 
contending  one  with  the  other,  a  fierce  struggle  has 
gone  on,  out  of  which  one  has  issued  victor  for  the 
time. 

A  similar  story  is  told  in  Greece,  as  we  all  re- 
member from  our  schoolboy  studies  of  its  mythol- 
ogy. The  successive  dynasties  of  the  gods  of 
Olympus  simply  stand  for  so  many  successive 
forms  of  religion.  These  differing  forms,  antagon- 
istic one  to  the  other,  struggled  one  with  the  other, 
and  the  best  fitted  to  survive  did  survive  for  the 
time. 

Israel's  story  tells  the  same  tale.  Before  Moses 
the  tribes  of  Beni  Israel  had  each  its  own  god  or 
gods.  With  Moses  a  great  revolution  was  wrought. 
The  tribal  gods  retired  to  the  background,  in  the 
Pantheon  of  IvSrael,  and  the  central  position  was 


3o6  Catholicity 

taken  by  Jehovah,  or  Jah.  Then  followed  gener- 
ations of  struggle  between  Jehovah,  from  his  cita- 
del in  Jerusalem,  and  the  local  gods  of  the  tribes 
who  reigned  still  in  the  provinces.  This  story  is 
embalmed  in  the  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  is  brought  out  vividly  by  our  new  criti- 
cism. And  this  strife  between  the  warring  gods  of 
Israel  is  only  the  strife  between  so  many  different 
religions,  so  many  different  religious  conceptions 
and  ideas  and  beliefs.  So  when  the  prophets  arose 
a  still  higher  form  of  religion  entered  the  field, 
contending  with  Jehovahism,  the  accepted  reli- 
gion of  the  nation.  The  religion  of  the  Prophets 
won  the  day — not  without  compromises  and  sacri- 
fices. It  took  gradual  possession  of  the  people, 
and  survived  because  it  was  fittest  to  survive  in  the 
enlarging  mental  and  moral  and  spiritual  life  of 
the  people. 

History  thus  shows  itself  to  be  full  of  the  obitu- 
ary notices  of  dead  religions.  Earth  is  strewn 
with  the  graves  of  buried  religions.  Institutions, 
once  venerable,  have  crumbled  into  ruins.  Rites, 
once  celebrated  with  pomp  and  pageantry,  are 
forgotten.     vSymbolisms,     once    sacred    to    men, 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        2>oy 

are  now  mere  curios  of  archaeology.  Beliefs,  once 
vital  and  inspiring  and  commanding,  are  now 
merely  superstitions. 

This  story  of  the  conflict  between  religions  out 
of  which  there  issues  a  survival  of  the  fittest  is 
peculiarly  the  story  of  the  age  in  which  Christianity 
arose.  As  never  before  in  the  history  of  man,  this 
was  an  era  of  cosmopolitanism.  Rome  had 
achieved  a  well-nigh  universal  Empire.  All  round 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  the  eagles  of  her 
legions  kept  watch  and  ward.  The  boundaries  of 
her  Empire  stretched  from  Briton  to  Persia.  Her 
fleets  traversed  the  Mediterranean,  passed  through 
the  Red  Sea,  circumnavigated  vSpain  and  Portugal, 
interchanging  the  commerce  of  the  East  and  the 
West.  Her  magnificent  system  of  roads  linked 
Paris  and  Marseilles  with  Damascus  and  Alexan- 
dria in  an  intricate  network  of  post  routes,  sup- 
plied at  frequent  intervals  with  lodging  houses  and 
relays  of  horses  and  every  convenience  for  rapid 
travel  and  interchange  of  letters.  In  the  Roman 
forum  the  golden  milestone  marked  the  center  of 
this  magnificent  Empire,  forth  from  which,  as 
the  hub,  these  road  spokes  branched  in  every  direc- 


3o8  Catholicity 

tion,  reaching  to  the  furthest  circumference  of  the 
Empire.  Roman  law  ruled  every  province.  Na- 
tional boundaries  fell  away.  Race  prejudices 
disappeared.  Along  the  streets  of  Rome  might  be 
seen,  in  an  afternoon's  walk,  the  blue-eyed, 
flaxen-haired  barbarian  of  Briton,  the  red-haired 
Frank,  the  swarthy  Moor,  the  copper-skinned 
Eastern,  the  cultivated  Greek — men  from  every 
land,  each  in  his  own  provincial  costume,  each 
speaking  his  own  local  tongue.  Along  the  quays 
of  the  Tiber  were  moored  ships,  bound  for  every 
part  of  the  known  world.  In  this  era  of  cosmo- 
politanism, under  this  imperial  unity,  more  was 
interchanged  between  the  provinces  than  the  cus- 
tom-house officers  levied  duty  upon,  and  more  than 
the  merchants  invoiced.  There  was  an  exchange 
not  only  of  wares,  but  of  ideas.  Thoughts  passed 
freely  from  land  to  land.  Greek  was  the  polite 
speech  of  the  world  as  French  was  the  polite  speech 
of  Europe  a  couple  of  generations  ago.  It  was  the 
fashion  then  to  travel,  as  it  is  the  fashion  now. 
The  gilded  youth  of  Rome  considered  his  education 
incomplete  until  he  had  attended  the  schools  of 
philosophy  in  Greece  and  had  carried  his  letter  of 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        309 

credit  with  him  in  a  tour  of  the  Mediterranean. 
Nations  who  had  been  isolated  one  from  the  other, 
races  which  had  known  one  of  the  other,  only  in 
the  misleading  light  of  prejudice,  came  to  stand 
face  to  face.  Rome  became  the  clearing  house  of 
the  world's  thought.  There  was  a  cross-fertiliza- 
tion of  ideas  going  on,  such  as  history  had  never 
known  before. 

Rome  was  as  hospitable  to  the  different  religions 
of  earth  as  she  was  to  the  various  races  of  the  world. 
As  all  the  provinces  flocked  to  Rome,  thither 
trooped  all  the  religions.  In  the  imperial  city 
temples  were  erected  to  Serapis  and  Isis,  to  Mithra 
and  the  vSun,  to  every  deity  who  had  a  following 
in  the  Empire — a  following  represented  in  the 
imperial  city.  It  was  an  age  of  universal  toleration. 
Religious  freedom  was  all  embracing.  A  man  was 
free  to  follow  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience. 
The  wealthy  and  ardent  followers  of  every  great 
religion  sought  to  popularize  that  religion  in  the 
capital  of  the  world,  hoping  to  make  it  the  domi- 
nant religion  of  the  Empire.  Noble  Roman 
ladies  might  be  seen  flocking  to  the  temple  of 
Isis,  and  attending  upon  the  solemn  pageantry  of 


310  Catholicity 

her  worship  as  conducted  by  the  white-surpHced, 
tonsured  priests  from  Egypt.  The  cult  of 
Mithra  vied  with  the  rehgion  of  I  sis  in  attracting 
the  attention  of  those  who  were  dissatisfied  with 
the  official  religion  of  the  Empire.  Men,  ahun- 
gered  after  ethical  and  sjjiritual  life,  longing  to 
know  something  of  human  destiny,  were  drawn 
into  the  following  of  this  Eastern  religion  which 
appealed  so  strongly  to  all  that  is  most  earnest  in 
human  nature.  Judaism,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
despite  the  prejudices  surrounding  its  peculiar 
people,  notwithstanding  the  suspicion  which  at- 
tached to  a  race  which  held  itself  aloof  from  all 
other  races,  guarded  so  jealously  its  sacred,  spiritual 
treasure,  and  insisted  so  strenuously  upon  its 
peculiar  rites — Judaism,  all  this  to  the  contrary, 
obtained  an  immense  following  throughout  the 
Empire  and  in  Rome  itself.  The  Jews  went 
everywhere  in  the  train  of  commerce  and  trade. 
They  formed  a  whole  quarter  in  the  great  city  of 
Alexandria,  numbering  perhaps  two  hundred 
thousand  souls.  They  had  their  own  district  in 
Rome,  where  also  they  formed  a  considerable 
element  of  the  population.     In  an  age  which  was 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        311 

growingly  dissatisfied  with  official  religion,  hun- 
gering after  some  certitude  in  religion,  longing  for 
some  power  to  inspire  life,  Judaism,  with  its  simple, 
pure,  spiritual  faith,  appealed  strongly.  It  made 
hosts  of  converts.  Roman  senators  and  Roman 
matrons  were,  if  not  open  perverts  to  Israel,  at 
least  secret  sympathizers  with  it.  So  vast  had 
become  this  influence  of  Judaism  upon  Rome  that 
at  one  time  it  promised  to  conquer  the  Roman 
Empire  and  become  the  dominant  religion.  It 
failed — because  it  had  given  birth  to  a  daughter 
whose  career  was  destined  to  realize  all  the  dreams 
of  its  mother. 

All  these  great  and  venerable  religions  were 
competing  in  the  free  and  open  field  of  the  Roman 
Empire  for  the  popular  suffrage.  A  veritable 
struggle  for  existence  was  going  on  between  Isis 
and  Mithra  and  Jehovah  and  Jupiter — between 
the  religions  for  which  these  deities  stood.  Into 
this  arena  there  appeared  suddenly  a  new  and 
youthful  combatant.  Among  all  these  competi- 
tors in  the  field  of  religion,  none  seemed  so  little 
likely  to  win  as  this  newest  religion. 

It  began  from  the  least  possible  beginnings.     A 


312  Catholicity 

little  handful  of  Jews,  held  in  disrepute  in  their 
own  land  because  of  their  heretical  tendencies, 
separating  themselves  at  first  from  their  fellows 
simply  because  they  believed  that  a  certain  car- 
penter's son,  of  an  obscure  hamlet  in  Galilee,  was 
the  Christ — such  was  the  Christian  Church  when 
it  first  entered  this  imperial  arena. 

It  came  with  all  the  taint  of  its  mother,  Juda- 
ism, upon  it.  It,  too,  was  an  intolerant  religion,  a 
religion  claiming  to  be  the  one  only  true  faith 
among  the  many  false  faiths.  It  entered,  by  in- 
heritance, into  all  the  suspicion  and  prejudice 
which  the  peculiarities  of  Judaism  entailed  upon 
it. 

It  was  the  religion  not  of  the  wealthy,  the  cul- 
tivated, the  fashionable,  but  of  the  poor,  the  un- 
known, the  despised  of  earth.  Its  followers  were 
the  slaves  and  freed  men  who  formed  the  ranks 
of  the  wage-workers  of  the  Empire.  Not  many  of 
the  mighty  were  called  to  this  first  following  of  the 
new  faith.  Its  emissaries  found  welcome  only 
among  those  who  themselves  had  no  recognition 
from  society.  Its  meeting  places  were  the  hospit- 
able S3magogues  of  Judaism,  or  the  lodge  rooms  of 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        313 

the  secret  societies  of  workingmen,  or  the  subter- 
ranean burial  chambers  of  the  Catacombs.  When 
Paul  came  to  visit  Rome  his  first  meetings  were  in 
some  of  the  fiats  in  the  tall  brick  tenements  lining 
the  Tiber.  His  audience  consisted  of  the  horny- 
handed  sons  of  toil.  Jewish  costermongers,  Syrian 
boat-men,  craftsmen  from  the  different  lands 
of  earth,  who  crowded  into  the  quarters  of  the 
poor — these  were  his  following.  As  Renan  said, 
most  of  those  in  his  audience  smelled  of  garlic. 
Celsus,  one  of  the  most  powerful  opponents  of 
Christianity  in  its  early  days,  vSaid  tauntingly,  its 
followers  were  cobblers  and  blacksmiths,  tent- 
weavers  and  carpenters.  , 

At  the  best,  in  those  early  days, the  aristocracy 
of  the  new  Church  were  the  artisans  and  craftsmen 
of  the  great  industrial  labor  unions  of  the  Empire. 
Few  philosophers  or  men  of  culture  were  found  in 
its  ranks.  It  had,  at  first,  no  men  capable  of  enter- 
ing into  controversy  with  the  trained  disputants 
of  paganism.  It  numbered  among  its  followers  no 
orators,  no  men  of  literature,  no  poets — none  of 
the  men  whose  intellectual  force  might  carry  it 
forward  toward  success.     As  Celsus,  in  another 


314  Catholicity 

place,  sneered,  "they  were  a  dumb  folk  only  bab- 
bling in  the  corners. " 

This  stripling  among  the  religions  of  earth,  this 
weakling  among  the  great  faiths,  dared  to  enter 
into  contest  with  the  giants  of  religion,  the  mighty 
forces  of  paganism,  trained  through  the  ages,  pan- 
oplied with  every  known  armor  of  defence  that  the 
learning  and  skill  of  man  could  contrive. 

In  this  contest  Christianity  found  arrayed 
against  itself  all  most  powerful  elements  of  society. 
The  mass  of  the  people  loved  their  ancient  tradi- 
tional festivals  and  usages — the  year  filled  up 
with  celebrations  of  the  gods  and  goddesses  in 
whom  they  had  been  taught  to  believe  in  infancy; 
the  sacred  rites  and  ceremonies  with  which  every 
important  event  of  life,  from  birth  to  death,  was 
associated.  Christianity,  in  its  first  enthusiasm, 
swept  the  field  clear  of  all  traditional  customs 
and  usages,  rites  and  ceremonies  associated  with 
paganism,  and  thus  opposed  to  itself  one  of  the 
strongest  instincts  of  humanity.  The  average 
man,  then  as  now,  hated  the  man  who  sought  to 
live  above  the  common  customs  and  to  follow 
standards  higher  than  those  recognized  generally. 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        315 

The  Puritan,  even  in  his  first  fresh  days  of  sincer- 
ity, was  not  an  altogether  lovely  character  to  the 
pleasure-loving  man.  And  the  Christian  was  the 
Puritan  of  the  Roman  Empire.  As  such  he  was 
cordially  detested  and  earnestly  hated  by  the 
men  whose  own  conception  of  life  was  having  a 
good  time. 

Conservatives  opposed  the  radicalism  of  this 
new  religion.  The  conservative  instinct,  strong 
in  all  ages,  was  particularly  strong  in  this  time 
when  the  official  piety  of  the  Empire  was  pietas 
toward  the  past,  reverence  towards  the  fathers, 
an  obedient  following  in  the  ways  of  tradition. 
So  the  established  order  stood  aghast  at  a  new  re- 
ligion which  turned  away  from  the  official  altars, 
disowned  the  piety  due  towards  the  past,  foreswore 
the  faith  of  the  fathers  and  started  out  with  a 
brand-new  religion  as  it  seemed.  The  Roman  con- 
servative felt  towards  Christianity  much  as  the 
good  Churchman  feels  towards  the  come-outer  and 
the  free  thinker — toward  the  man  who  will  not 
attend  church  and  disowns  the  institutions  of 
religion.  Christianity  seemed  to  the  average  man 
not  a  religion  but  an  irrehgion.     Did  not  these 


3i6  Catholicity 

Christians  forsake  the  ahars  of  the  Gods  and  re- 
fuse to  do  homage  to  the  ancient  divinities?  Did 
they  not  deny  the  faith  of  the  fathers,  and  turn 
their  backs  upon  the  holy  temples?  All  this  was 
an  impiety,  and  therefore  they  seemed  to  the 
religious  of  their  day  to  be  nothing  else  but  atheists. 
This  was  what  they  were  continually  charged  with 
being.  Again  and  again  in  great  prosecutions  the 
cry  arose — "Away  with  the  atheists!"  Today 
the  tables  are  reversed ;  and  we  Christians,  who  are 
so  ready  to  condemn  agnostics  and  other  non- 
conformists as  being  atheists  and  infidels,  feel 
it  strange  to  find  that  our  progenitors  were  thus 
charged  in  the  days  gone  by. 

All  whose  ideal  was  respectability  turned  away 
from  a  new  religion  which  was  utterly  unfashion- 
able. Its  followers,  drawn  from  the  hosts  of 
slaves  and  freed  men  who  did  the  menial  work  of 
civilization,  found  among  themselves  few  of  the 
elite  of  earth.  In  those  early  Christian  assemblies 
no  Roman  senators,  no  grandames,  were  present ; 
no  men  of  wealth  and  no  women  of  culture.  It 
was  throughout  the  Empire  as  in  Israel,  where  the 
taunt  arose — Have  any  of  the  Imperial  household 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        31 7 

embraced  this  new  religion?  Are  any  of  the 
nobihty  converts  to  this  new  faith?  And  the 
great  mass  of  men  and  women  who  longed,  above 
all,  to  be  in  the  social  swim  turned  away  from  this 
upstart  religion,  which  was  only  the  faith  of  the 
despised  and  the  outcast  of  earth. 

Vested  interests  opposed  Christianity,  with  all 
the  power  of  property.  The  official  religion  of  the 
State  was  thoroughly  organized  throughout  the 
Empire,  and  represented  vast  plants  in  the  form 
of  temples  and  their  endowments,  and  vast  pro- 
perties in  the  trades  that  ministered  to  the  temple 
worship,  and  vast  incomes  in  the  salaries  of  the 
priests  of  the  hierarchy.  Every  interest  concerned 
in  the  maintenance  of  paganism  opposed  resolutely 
this  new  religion  which  would  have  confiscated 
those  properties  and  estopped  those  businesses 
and  ended  those  incomes. 

Culture  opposed  Christianity.  All  the  learning 
and  philosophy  and  art  and  science  of  the  day 
stood  together  in  the  maintenance  of  the  recog- 
nized religions  of  the  Empire.  They  were  vener- 
able with  age,  hallowed  with  associations  and 
mellowed  with  poetry.     They  fostered  schools  of 


3i8  Catholicity 

philosophy  and  were,  in  turn,  defended  by  the 
philosophers.  The  intellectual  life  of  the  age 
was  strong  and  culture  was  widespread.  All  the 
cultivated  classes,  without  exception,  rallied  to  the 
support  of  the  various  forms  of  paganism.  On 
the  other  hand  stood  this  infant  religion,  this  faith 
of  the  plain  people,  among  whom  were  found  no 
philosophers,  no  scholars,  not  many  learned,  not 
many  mighty.  It  was  the  taunt  of  the  cultured 
of  the  age  that  Christianity  was  a  superstition, 
a  pestilent  superstition.  The  brilliant  Emperor 
Julian  sneeringly  declared  that  culture  was  not 
for  the  followers  of  the  crucified  carpenter.  They 
only  needed  to  "believe."  There  was  ground 
enough  for  these  taunts.  The  early  Christians 
accepted  the  most  impossible  miracles  unquestion- 
ingly.  They  read  their  Old  Testament  literally. 
The  stories  of  the  Old  Testament  which  still  offend 
cultivated  minds  offended  cultivated  minds  in  the 
Roman  Empire,  equally.  But  these  stories  gave 
no  offence  to  the  mechanics  and  slaves  who  com- 
posed the  Christian  Church.  Celsus,  the  most 
brilliant  and  able  of  the  early  antagonists  of 
Christianity,  was  never  weary  of  poking  fun  at  the 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        319 

blind  credulity  of  the  Christians  and  their  stupid 
superstitions. 

The  State  opposed  this  new  religion  with  all  the 
might  of  its  strong  arm.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  why  this  was  so.  The  recognized 
religion  of  the  Empire  was  the  official  religion  of 
the  State.  It  was  a  State  religion.  Conformity 
to  its  customs  formed  part  of  the  duties  of  citizen- 
ship. These  Christians,  who  would  not  burn  in- 
cense upon  the  altars  of  the  gods,  who  would  not 
offer  homage  to  the  genius  of  the  Emperors,  who 
refused  any  act  of  worship  to  the  head  of  the  State 
— these  were  not  only  impious  men  but  dangerous 
citizens.  They  were  not  only  disloyal  to  the  faith 
of  the  fathers — they  were  disloyal  to  the  Empire 
itself.  This  suspicion  was  aggravated  by  the 
steadfast  refusal  of  the  early  Christians  to  serve 
in  the  army.  Their  opposition  to  war  was  intense. 
Their  belief  in  non-resistance  was  a  principle. 
They  were  the  Quakers  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
And  whatever  the  tolerance  of  Rome,  a  limit  was 
drawn  when  citizens  refused  military  service — 
that  service,  upon  which,  the  very  perpetuities 
of  the  Empire  depended. 


320  Catholicity 

Yet  further,  the  Christians,  in  their  private 
assemblages,  were  identified  with  the  secret  so- 
cieties which  were  spread  throughout  the  Empire. 
Trades  unions  and  labor  organizations,  incorpor- 
ated under  the  law  of  the  Empire,  in  forms  per- 
missible by  the  law,  as  burial  societies  and  mutual 
benefit  societies,  were  spread  far  and  wide,  enroll- 
ing a  vast  membership.  They  had  become  serious 
factors  in  the  State — alike  by  their  numbers  and 
by  their  wealth.  They  had  become  objects  of 
suspicion  to  the  State.  Property,  then  as  now,  was 
always  ready  to  be  scared  by  the  bugaboo  of  social 
revolution.  These  new,  so-called  religious  as- 
semblies, which  were  known  to  meet  in  the  lodge- 
rooms  of  the  labor  organizations  and  to  gather 
furtively  in  the  Catacombs;  these  secret  societies 
plainly  composed  of  the  suspected  workingmen — 
entered  into  the  inheritance  of  suspicion  which 
attached  to  all  similar  societies  in  the  Empire. 
The  State  was  in  constant  dread  of  a  social  revolu- 
tion. The  attitude  of  the  early  Christians  towards 
property  was  thoroughly  socialistic.  Thus  it  came 
about  naturally  that  the  State  looked  askance  upon 
them,  and  ere  long  proceeded  to  active  opposition. 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        321 

This  is  the  secret  of  the  persecutions  of  the 
Christians.  Rome  was  tolerant  without  limit  of 
religion  pure  and  simple.  A  man  might  believe 
what  he  chose  and  worship  what  he  willed,  so  long 
as  he  remained  a  good  citizen,  loyal  to  the  Empire, 
and  in  no  wise  threatened  property.  But  the 
moment  that  property  seemed  to  be  threatened, 
Rome  was  prepared  to  crush,  remorselessly,  its 
secret  foe.  The  story  of  the  first  three  centuries  is 
a  story  of  repeated  persecutions.  Long  intervals 
elapsed  between  the  outbursts  of  popular  wrath 
and  imperial  enmity,  but,  from  time  to  time, 
circumstances  re-awakened  suspicion,  re-excited 
enmity  and  persecution  renewed  itself.  Nero 
began  it  when,  after  the  great  conflagration  of 
Rome,  the  popular  hatred  towards  the  Christians 
suggested  them  as  the  natural  scapegoat  for  this 
calamity.  In  the  Imperial  gardens  Christian  men 
and  women,  bound  upon  uplifted  stakes,  covered 
with  tar,  on  which  cotton  was  scattered,  were 
made  living  torches  to  illumine  the  Imperial  festiv- 
ities. At  first  there  was  considerable  restraint  in 
these  persecutions,  and  the  fact  of  being  a  Christian 
was  not  made  a  criminal  offence.     No  encourage- 


322  Catholicity 

ment  was  given  to  informers  against  Christians. 
Only  when  a  man  resolutely  insisted  upon  denying 
his  duty  to  the  State  and  on  refusing  the  homage 
due  to  the  Emperor  was  he  subjected  to  torture  or 
to  death.  But  by  degrees,  as  Christianity  grew  in 
power  and  became,  therefore,  more  feared  and 
hated,  restraint  was  thrown  off,  until,  at  last,  in 
fearful  paroxysms  of  wrath,  the  whole  power  of 
the  State  was  employed  with  the  deliberate  and 
avowed  purpose  of  crushing  out  Christianity  itself. 
Then  the  fact  of  being  a  Christian  became  a  crim- 
inal offence.  Edicts  condemned  them  to  death 
without  waiting  for  charges  against  them.  The 
most  philosophic,  the  noblest,  the  most  profoundly 
religious  of  the  Emperors,  Marcus  Aurelius,  per- 
mitted persecution — doubtless  on  the  grounds 
already  indicated.  In  these  outbursts  of  fury 
against  the  Christians,  men,  women  and  children 
were  burned  at  the  stake,  were  beheaded,  were 
tortured,  were  thrown  to  the  lions  in  the  arena, 
were  enclosed  in  nets  and  then  tossed  by  angry 
bulls,  were  dressed  in  skins  of  wolves  to  be  set 
upon  by  savage  dogs.  Thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  were  thus  slaughtered  in  those  bloody 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        323 

years.  Never  was  a  more  continuous  systematic 
effort  made  to  crush  a  religion  by  the  power  of 
persecution.  The  result  of  it  all  was  that  the  blood 
of  the  martyrs  was  the  seed  of  the  Church. 

Through  all  these  elements  of  opposition  Chris- 
tianity survived;  in  spite  of  them  all  it  steadily 
prospered.  Generation  by  generation  it  increased 
mightily,  until,  at  the  end  of  the  third  century, 
the  battle  was  won.  Constantine  recognized  it 
as  the  dominant  religion — the  only  religion  capable 
of  unifying  his  Empire — and  established  it  as  the 
religion  of  the  State. 

One  final  despairing  effort  was  made  after  Con- 
stantine to  revive  paganism  and  crush  Christianity. 
A  group  of  remarkable  men,  intellectual,  highly 
educated,  nobly  earnest,  spiritually  minded,  con- 
secrated themselves  to  the  renewal  of  the  noblest 
life  of  their  forefathers.  They  gave  themselves 
to  the  fresh  study  of  Plato,  and  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  the  ancient  religions  in  the  light  of  his 
philosophy.  They  developed  a  philosophic  sys- 
tem which  was  in  all  respects  the  parallel  of  ortho- 
dox Christianity,  save  that  its  doctrine  of  the 
Logos,   or  the  Divine  Thought  Word,   stopped 


324  Catholicity 

short  at  the  culmination  of  the  Christian  truth — 
that  the  word  was  made  flesh  and  dwelt  among  us. 
These  men  devoted  their  powers  to  teaching 
their  thought  and  to  inspiring  in  men  their  own 
high  life.  Most  illustrious  of  their  converts  was 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the  Caesars.  Flavius 
Claudius  Julianus,  better  known  simply  as  Julian, 
was  the  nephew  of  the  great  Constantine.  He  was 
a  man  of  splendid  intellectual  gifts,  some  of  whose 
learned  treatises  are  still  extant.  He  was  devoted 
to  philosophy,  and  found  his  joy,  even  when  upon 
the  Imperial  throne,  in  study.  He  was,  at  the 
same  time,  a  vigorous  man  of  affairs,  a  successful 
administrator  and  organizer.  He  was,  moreover, 
a  brilliant  general,  idolized,  deified  by  his  soldiers. 
Yet,  more,  he  was  a  man  of  thoroughly  noble  na- 
ture, profoundly  earnest  and  deeply  religious.  He 
was  brought  up  as  a  Christian,  but,  unfortunately, 
as  a  Christian  of  the  court,  under  the  influences 
of  the  fashionable  Christianity  of  his  day.  He 
became  learned  in  dogmatic  controversy,  but 
remained  ignorant  of  spiritual  Christianity.  His 
natural  piety  led  him  to  become  a  reader  in  the 
church,  and  thus  to  enter  upon  the  lowest  grade  of 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        325 

clerical  orders.  What  he  saw  of  the  superficial 
Christianity  around  him  revolted  him.  As  soon 
as  any  freedom  came  to  him  in  his  life  of  practical 
imprisonment  under  the  suspicion  of  the  Emperor, 
he  turned  to  the  Greek  classics  with  the  hunger  of 
a  starved  mind.  From  Plato  and  Aristotle  he 
drew  deep  draughts  of  intellectual  inspiration. 
He  became  an  enthusiast  for  Greek  culture. 
Neoplatonism,  the  new  Platonism,  filled  his  soul 
with  philosophy  and  religious  enthusiasm.  On 
coming  to  the  Empire  he  threw  off  the  disguise  of 
his  youth  and  avowed  himself  a  follower  of  the 
ancient  religion.  vSacrifices  were  once  more  offered 
to  the  Gods  of  Rome,  and  Julian  himself  officiated 
at  the  altars.  He  felt  himself  called,  as  by  a  divine 
voice,  to  the  great  work  of  restoring  the  religion 
of  the  fathers.  When  the  Emperor  set  the  gait, 
all  the  court  kept  step.  Paganism  once  more 
became  fashionable.  All  the  power  of  the  court 
was  thrown  into  this  work  of  restoration.  Temples 
that  had  been  turned  into  churches  were  re-dedi- 
cated to  pagan  divinities.  New  temples  were 
built.  They  were  richly  re-endowed.  The  old 
priesthoods  were  re-established.     The  ancient  wor- 


326  Catholicity 

ships  were  everywhere  renewed.  More  Christian 
than  many  of  the  Christians,  this  great  heathen 
refused  to  persecute  those  who  would  not  follow 
him.  "Blows  and  bodily  injuries,"  said  he,  "are 
not  the  means  by  which  to  change  a  man's  con- 
victions. "  More  than  the  restoration  of  paganism 
did  Julian  seek — he  sought  its  reformation.  Him- 
self a  man  of  simplest  and  most  abstemious  life, 
pure  amid  all  the  corruptions  of  the  court,  dividing 
his  time  between  the  studies  which  he  loved  and 
his  duties  as  a  ruler,  he  insisted  upon  holding  the 
renewed  religion  of  the  fathers  up  to  his  own  high 
standards. 

If  our  religion  [he  writes  to  the  High  Priest  of  Gala- 
tea] does  not  make  the  progress  we  could  wish,  the 
blame  lies  with  those  who  profess  it.  The  Gods  have 
done  great  things  for  us,  above  our  hopes  and  peti- 
tions. But  is  it  right  that  we  should  be  satisfied  with 
their  favors,  and  neglect  those  things  which  the  im- 
piety of  the  Christians  has  cultivated,  their  hospitality 
to  strangers,  their  care  of  the  graves,  their  holiness  of 
life?    We  should  earnestly  seek  all  these  things. 

He  commanded  that  the  priesthood  should  be 
purged  of  unworthy  members,  and  prohibited  all 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        327 

priests  from  going  to  the  theatre  and  frequenting 
the  taverns. 

With  a  certain  feverishness  of  zeal  he  journeyed 
from  province  to  province,  everywhere  stimulat- 
ing, encouraging,  rebuking,  stirring  men  to  greater 
efforts.  He  hurried  from  temple  to  temple, 
brought  sacrifice  after  sacrifice,  knelt  for  hours 
before  his  Gods  and  covered  their  statues  with 
kisses.  Then,  at  night,  he  sat  in  silence  at  his 
writing  table  and  gave  vent  to  his  bitterness  and 
disgust  with  everything.  In  those  still  hours  he 
wrote  his  works,  full  of  brilliant  wit  and  charged 
with  bitterest  hatred  against  the  Galileans  and 
their  carpenter's  son. 

But  all  in  vain.  When  the  rhetorician  Libanius 
scornfully  asked  a  Christian  priest — "What  is 
your  carpenter's  son  doing  now?"  the  priest  re- 
plied— "He  is  now  making  a  coffin  for  your 
Emperor."  In  the  midst  of  these  incessant  la- 
bors Julian  was  called  to  the  East  to  meet  a  Per- 
sian invasion,  and  died  at  the  head  of  his  troops 
in  heroic  combat.  Tradition  among  the  Chris- 
tians reported  that  his  dying  cry  was — "  Oh,  Naza- 
rene,   thou   hast   conquered."     Others  said  that 


32^  Catholicity 

his  last  words  were — "Sun,   thou  hast  betrayed 


me." 


It  was  a  splendid,  brilliant  effort — but  it  was 
the  effort  of  despair.  It  was  a  movement  against 
the  whole  trend  of  history.  No  such  movement 
can  succeed,  no  matter  what  the  brilliance  of  its 
leader,  no  matter  what  the  might  of  its  resources. 
During  the  reign  of  Julian  the  friends  of  Athana- 
sius  had  expressed  their  anxiety  and  fear.  He  re- 
sponded— "It  is  only  a  little  cloud.  It  will  pass. " 
It  passed — and  with  it  paganism  passed  forever 
from  the  Western  world.  It  passed — and  Chris- 
tianity remained.  In  the  struggle  for  existence 
Christianity  was  successful. 

Paganism  lingered  still  upon  the  earth,  but  as  a 
ghost  haunts  the  scenes  of  its  old  life.  Pagans 
remained  here  and  there,  but  they  were,  as  the 
word  itself  indicates,  Pagani,  only  the  villagers, 
the  rude,  unlettered,  superstitious  folk — the  cul- 
'tivated  people,  the  men  and  women  of  the  great 
towns  and  cities,  having  gone  bodily  over  to 
Christianity. 

The  same  process  repeated  itself  as  Christianity'- 
•came  into  the  presence  of  the  religions  of  the  north 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        329 

of  Europe — the  religions  of  the  German  woods,  of 
the  fields  of  Briton,  of  the  Scandinavian  Fjiords. 
Longfellow,  in  the  saga  of  Thor  and  the  White 
Christ,  tells  the  whole  story.  Thor  struggled  with 
the  White  Christ,  but  he  was  defeated. 

Isis  and  Jupiter  bowed  before  the  Christ,  and 
were  no  longer  supreme.  Out  of  the  struggle  of 
the  Titans,  Christianity  came  forth  victorious. 

Putting  aside  all  so-called  supernatural  claims 
resulting  from  this  victory,  a  purely  natural  claim 
remains.  It  is  inconceivable  that  out  of  such  a 
conflict  a  religion  unfitted  to  survive  should  sur- 
vive. That  would  be  an  exception  to  the  universal 
law  of  nature.  It  follows,  then,  that  Christianity 
conquered  because  it  was  most  worthy  of  conquer- 
ing.    It  was  a  survival  of  the  fittest. 

In  such  survival  of  the  fittest  there  is  also  an 
absorption  into  the  survivor  of  the  elements  which 
fed  those  lives  that  failed.  In  the  dark  forest, 
where  the  trees  crowd  each  other  to  get  at  the  air 
and  sunshine,  the  most  vital  tree  survives.  The 
weakly  trees  around  it  sicken  and  die — make  room 
for  it  to  send  its  roots  down  into  the  earth  and  suck 
up  the  nourishment  that  they  would  have  taken 


330  Catholicity 

from  it;  make  room  for  it  to  send  its  boughs  up 
into  the  air  and  absorb  into  its  leaves  the  sunshine 
which  they  would  have  divided  with  it.  The  suc- 
cessful tree  gathers  into  itself  the  lives  of  the  un- 
successful trees.  It  was  a  New  Zealand  belief 
that  when  a  chief  slew  his  rival  and  ate  him  the 
spirit  of  the  dead  warrior  passed  into  the  victor. 
This  superstition  held  a  philosophic  truth. 

There  is  yet  a  higher  conception  of  this  survival 
of  the  fittest.  In  the  struggle  for  existence  which 
we  discern  in  nature  there  is  not  merely  the  strife 
between  different  forms  of  life  on  the  same  plane, 
by  which  one  lives  and  another  dies,  one  survives 
and  another  succumbs,  but  there  is  issuing,  from 
this  struggle  of  individual  lives,  the  gradual  form- 
ing of  a  new  and  higher  order  of  life  which  follows 
the  universal  law.  Out  of  the  survival  of  the 
fittest  individuals,  by  slow  successive  changes, 
variations  develop,  gathering  ever  fresh  increments 
of  force,  until  new  varieties  arise — new  species, 
genera  and  orders.  It  is  in  this  way  that  physical 
science  accounts  for  the  gradual  evolution  of  life 
upon  the  earth.  The  mineral  world  reappears 
in  the  vegetable  world,  ennobled.     The  vegetable 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        33 1 

life  re-emerges  in  animal  life,  spiritualized.  Each 
successive  order  of  animal  life  takes  up  the  best 
elements  in  the  order  preceding  it,  and  transfigures 
them.  The  story  of  the  material  world  is  a  story 
of  an  endless  series  of  transfigurations.  In  man 
the  whole  chain  of  lower  life  re-appears  in  glorified 
forms. 

The  realm  of  mind  exhibits  the  same  law.  In 
the  conflict  of  thought  the  winning  truth  absorbs 
whatever  was  true  in  the  error  which  was  defeated. 
In  the  great  philosophical  systems  of  our  century 
are  to  be  found  absorbed  the  leading  thought  of 
every  philosopher,  back  to  Plato  and  Aristotle; 
yea,  back  to  the  unknown  dreamers  upon  the 
shores  of  the  Ganges,  centuries  earlier.  In  the 
great  scientific  system  which  Herbert  Spencer  has 
given  to  his  generation  one  may  find  the  essence 
of  theories  which  have  made  single  names  illustrious 
through  the  whole  story  of  the  march  of  intellect. 
Find  the  greatest  of  the  later  religions  of  the  earth, 
the  religion  which  has  risen  in  the  heart  of  civiliza- 
tion, which  has  grappled  with  the  most  powerful  of 
ancient  religions  and  mastered  them,  and  we  may 
be  sure  that  we  have  found  that  system  which,  in 


332  Catholicity 

some  sense,  is  a  synthesis  of  all  the  faiths  that 
preceded  it.  This  can  be  afhrmed  without  any 
reference  to  the,  so-called,  supernatural  claims  of 
Christianity,  but  simply  and  solely  as  the  natural 
law  of  life.  Christianity  could  not  have  survived 
in  such  a  struggle  without  having  absorbed  into 
itself  the  best  elements  of  Roman  Stoicism,  of  Gre- 
cian Philosophy  and  of  Eastern  Mysticism. 

Thus  into  the  successful  competitor  in  this 
conflict  among  religions,  there  passed  the  vitality 
of  every  perishing  paganism.  Christianity  drew 
in  to  itself,  under  the  mysterious  law  of  life,  every 
vital  element  of  the  faiths  which  it  dispossessed. 
It  proved  to  have  the  power  of  adaptation  by 
which  it  absorbed  and  assimilated  whatever  in  the 
surrounding  paganisms  proved  worthy  of  being 
preserved  and  perpetuated.  Thus,  it  sucked  up, 
out  of  Judaism,  its  highest  truth,  monotheism — its 
belief  in  the  one  living  and  true  God.  Thus,  it 
drew  in  from  paganism  the  sense  of  the  omni- 
presence of  God  in  manifold  forms,  which  was  the 
truth  underlying  polytheism;  and  recognized  mani- 
festations or  masks  or  forms  of  God,  in  all  the 
different  powers  and  energies  of  nature.     It  drew 


A  Survival  of  the  Fittest        333 

from  Judaism  its  profound  moral  earnestness,  its 
high  spiritual  aspiration,  its  longing  for  communion 
with  the  living  God.  It  drew  also  from  paganism 
these  same  ethical  and  spiritual  cravings  which 
found  manifestation  in  the  Sacred  Mysteries,  and 
embodied  them  in  that  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness  which  was  its  peculiar  distinction. 

The  summation  of  the  earlier  chapters  finds 
place  here.  Alike  in  its  sacred  books,  its  institu- 
tions, its  sacraments,  its  symbols  and  its  creeds, 
Christianity  accepted  from  paganism  all  that 
proved  acceptable,  gathered  into  itself  all  that  was 
vital,  drew  up  into  its  own  life  every  true  idea  and 
noble  ideal,  every  deep  inspiration  and  lofty  aspir- 
ation, every  great  faith  and  earnest  hope  and  sweet 
charity,  and  became  the  flowering  of  paganism,  the 
efflorescence  of  every  religion  of  antiquity.  The 
hidden  wisdom  of  paganism,  the  inner  and  esoteric 
religion  of  the  few,  became  the  open  secret  of 
Christianity;  the  truth  told  in  a  tale  which  entered 
in  at  lowly  doors  and  became  the  heritage  of  the 
common  people  of  Christendom.  And  then  that 
sacred  sign  of  the  cross,  which  was  to  antiquity 
the  cypher  of  universal  spiritual  religion,  conserv- 


334  Catholicity 

ing  the  four  great  truths  of  ImmortaHty,  Regenera- 
tion, Redemption  and  Divine  Love,  become  the 
chosen  sign  and  symbol  of  the  new  reHgion,  which 
proclaimed  to  all  men,  far  and  wide,  this  fourfold 
truth  of  life. 

This  is  the  outward  story  of  the  success  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  secret  by  which  it  became  the  heir  of 
the  ages. 


XI 

THE  ISSUES 

How  strange,  in  the  light  of  this  story  of  Chris- 
tianity, seems  that  criticivSm  in  a  once  famous 
book,  in  which  the  hero  of  the  tale,  at  the  crisis  of 
his  experience,  declares^: 

I  see  God's  purposes  in  quite  other  proportions  as  it 
were.  Christianity  seems  to  me  something  small  and 
local.  Behind  it,  around  it — including  it — I  see  the 
great  drama  of  the  world,  sweeping  on — led  by  God — 
from  change  to  change,  from  act  to  act.  It  is  not  that 
Christianity  is  false,  but  that  it  is  only  an  imperfect 
human  reflection  of  a  part  of  truth.  Truth  has  never 
been,  can  never  be,  contained  in  any  one  creed  or 
system ! 

Doubtless.  But  what  if  the  one  creed  or  system 
is  the  outgrowth  of  all  creeds  and  systems  of  the 
ancient  world?     What  if  the  part  of  truth  con- 

'  "Robert  Elsmere,"  page  414. 

335 


336  Catholicity 

tained  in  it,  however  imperfect  as  of  necessity  it 
must  needs  be,  is  a  part  as  large  as  antiquity — as 
large  as  the  cosmopolitanism  out  of  which  it  has 
grown?  Truly,  the  great  drama  of  the  world 
sweeps  on,  led  by  God,  from  change  to  change, 
from  act  to  act ;  but,  in  the  light  of  this  retrospect 
of  history,  the  very  core  of  that  great  drama  seems 
to  be  Christianity.  So  far  from  being  small  and 
local,  then,  our  Christianity  looms  large  and  uni- 
versal— as  large  as  earth,  as  universal  as  man. 

When  a  young  maple  on  your  lawn  or  in  your 
pasture  shows  signs  of  arrested  life,  it  is  a  serious 
matter.  The  sapling  has  but  slight  rootings  in  the 
soil.  Young  life  always  sickens  and  dies  easily. 
It  is  no  great  affair  to  uproot  the  young  tree  and 
put  out  a  new  one.  When  the  venerable  oak 
seems  ailing,  you  have  no  suspicion  that  it  is  dying. 
You  never  think  of  cutting  it  down  and  planting 
a  new  one.  It  has  taken  generations  to  grow  that 
noble  tree.  It  ought  to  live  for  generations  yet  to 
come.  What  it  wants  is  some  better  treatment. 
You  dig  about  its  roots  to  let  the  air  purify  and 
stimulate  them.  You  search  for  some  parasitical 
life  that  may  be  draining  its  strength.     If  it  has 


The  Issues  337 

gone  too  much  to  leafage  it  may  need  pruning. 
At  the  worst,  it  may  call  for  some  heroic  surgical 
treatment  to  drive  its  life  back  upon  the  roots. 
Those  roots  run  out  far  and  wide  below  the  surface. 
They  insure  for  it  a  vitality  corresponding  to  this 
depth  and  width  of  rooting. 

Such  is  the  vitality  of  Christianity.  In  its 
veins  flows  the  sap  of  the  ages,  the  juices  of  life 
sucked  up  from  those  wide  and  deep  rootings 
through  which  it  takes  hold  on  humanity  itself. 
Where,  then,  shall  we  seek  for  any  new  religion, 
save  in  a  renewal  of  this  ancient  and  venerable  one 
— itself  the  quintessence  of  all  preceding  religions? 
What  of  new  shall  we  expect  in  the  great  tree  of 
religion  but  the  tippings  of  the  ever  green  spires 
with  the  tender  color  of  a  new  springtide? 

Of  the  essential  nature  of  piety — the  ancient 
pietas,  or  reverence  for  the  past — is  that  conserva- 
tism which,  conscious  of  all  the  imperfections  of 
a  religion,  itself  the  expression  of  an  imperfect 
humanity,  does,  none  the  less,  see  in  it  the  highest 
expression  of  that  imperfect  humanity  yet  reached, 
and  holds,  therefore,  loyalty  to  its  institutions  as 
the  venerable  heirlooms  of  the  ages,  the  sacred 


33^  Catholicity 

shrines  in  which  man's  soul  has  so  jealously 
guarded  the  secret  of  the  universe.  Though  thus 
wisely  conservative,  we  who  cling  to  the  historic 
forms  of  our  venerable  religion,  cling  to  them  as 
expecting  them  to  grow  and  enlarge  under  the 
swelling  life  of  the  Divine  Spirit  within  man;  be- 
coming thus  ever  more  and  more  fit  for  the  use  of 
man,  more  and  more  worthy  to  image  the  God  who 
is  in  man. 

In  that  Christianity  has  grown  out  of  the  great 
religions  preceding  it,  absorbed  into  itself  their 
vital  elements  and  become  thus  their  reproduction 
in  nobler  and  higher  forms,  we  can  expect  that  as 
Christianity  confronts  the  other  great  religions  of 
the  world  in  the  continued  struggle  for  existence, 
it  will  prove  itself  capable  afresh,  capable  of  a  con- 
tinued survival  as  the  fittest.  Of  the  best  in  the 
great  religions  of  the  East  not  a  little  has  already 
been  absorbed  into  the  ground  which  has  nourished 
Christianity.  Of  the  other  truths  these  great 
religions  of  the  East  have  to  teach  us — and  they 
are  neither  few  nor  trifling — may  we  not  feel  con- 
fident that  our  venerable  religion  can  absorb  and 
assimilate  them  and  turn  them  into  material  for 


The  Issues  339 

new  growth?  He  who  has  thus  seen  Christianity 
emerging  from  the  conflict  of  the  past,  victor  over 
every  greatest  form  of  faith,  must  needs  expect  a 
renewal  of  the  story  in  this  new  age  of  cosmopoH- 
tanism  in  which  the  great  reHgions  of  the  world 
once  more  confront  each  other.  He  will  welcome 
every  teacher  from  the  East  who  comes  bringing 
the  hidden  wisdom  of  his  orient  to  unveil  to  our 
Western  eyes;  but  he  will  welcome  him  with  a 
serene  confidence  that  these  truths  of  the  East 
will  be  taken  up  into  the  ever-growing  truth  of  the 
West — which,  as  the  truth  of  progressive  human- 
ity, must  needs  be  the  truth  of  the  world. 

For  this  is  the  singular  fact  concerning  Chris- 
tianity: that,  growing  in  the  East  and  absorbing 
the  best  of  every  Eastern  faith,  it  has  become  the 
religion  of  the  West — that  is,  of  the  progressive 
portion  of  humanity — and  grows  with  its  growth, 
expanding  with  its  enlargement,  purifying  itself 
with  its  ennoblement,  deepening  with  its  increasing 
earnestness,  and  still  leading  the  leading  nations 
of  the  earth  on  toward  the  light  and  life  of  God. 

The  East  accepts  the  Western  civilization  as  the 
progressive  civilization  of  the  world.     So  it  must 


340  Catholicity 

needs  accept  the  religion  of  the  West  as  the  reHgion 
of  the  progressive  hfe  of  the  world,  and  pour  its 
own  best  life  once  more  into  the  re-growth  and  the 
renewal  of  Christianity.  Every  great  religion  of 
the  East  will  bring  to  this  renewed  evolution  of 
Christianity  something  true  and  vital.  The  out- 
come of  this  new  age  of  cosmopolitanism  will  be 
a  new  Christianity,  gathering  into  itself  once  more, 
as  it  did  eighteen  centuries  ago,  the  life  of  the 
world. 

But  no  disguise  should  be  made  of,  and  no  ex- 
ception is  here  taken  to,  the  prevalent  and  thought- 
ful belief  that  serious  changes  are  necessary  in 
Christianity  to  fit  it  to  grow  into  the  religion  of  the 
future.  Intellectual  readjustments  are  needful, 
in  order  that  it  may  adapt  itself  to  the  new  con- 
ditions of  our  new  knowledge.  Ethical  readjust- 
ments are  needful,  in  order  that  it  may  adapt 
itself  to  the  new  conditions  of  our  life,  political, 
social  and  economic.  The  whole  perspective 
study  of  catholicity  is  a  broad  aspect  of  these  issues 
— the  term  itself  being  but  one  guiding  caption  for 
the  trend  of  our  search  for  the  true  way.  Because 
of  the  felt  need  of  readjustment,  and  because  of 


The  Issues  34i 

the  temporary  and  partial  paralysis  which  always 
ensues  upon  an  epoch  of  transition,  when  life  is, 
for  the  moment,  arrested,  the  suspicion  has 
gotten  abroad  that  Christianity  is  decadent. 
How  far  astray  such  a  suspicion  is  is  seen  after 
a  survey  of  the  wide  and  deep  rootings  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

Despite  all  these  appearances  of  arrested  life, 
what  other  and  manifold  appearances  there  are 
of  deep  and  exhaustless  vitality  in  our  venerable 
religion.  In  the  intellectual  life  of  the  church  we 
see  the  most  alert  and  earnest  inquiry  going  on  in 
every  field  of  thought,  determined  effort  to  read- 
just the  ancient  forms  of  faith  to  the  new  knowl- 
edge. Never  in  the  history  of  Christianity  has 
a  single  generation  wrought  a  mightier  change  in 
the  intellectual  outlook  of  the  Church  than  is 
being  wrought  in  the  generation  through  which  we 
are  passing.  The  minds  of  the  thinkers  in  the 
Church  are  grappling  with  every  problem  of  our 
new  knowledge,  and  grappling  with  it  successfully. 
Even  in  our  own  day,  in  which  this  movement  of 
reconstruction  has  begun,  we  can  see  it  so  far 
advanced  as  to  prophesy  the  success  which  will 


342  Catholicity 

attend  the  effort  to  run  the  new  knowledge  into 
the  old  moulds  of  thought — the  form  of  sound 
words  handed  down  to  us  from  the  fathers.  There 
never  has  been  a  period  in  the  history  of  the  Church 
when  its  intellectual  vitality  has  been  more  intense 
than  in  our  own  day. 

Nor  has  there  ever  been  a  period  in  the  history 
of  the  Church  when  its  philanthropic  activity  has 
been  greater  than  in  this,  our  own  day  and  gener- 
ation. The  enthusiasm  of  humanity  is  attacking 
every  evil  of  society,  hesitating  not  to  grapple  with 
the  most  serious  evils  that  afflict  mankind,  daring 
to  attempt  the  solution  of  the  most  profound 
problems  which  have  exercised  the  conscience  of 
man  through  the  ages.  The  new  ideal  of  service 
is  growing  within  the  mind  of  the  Church,  conse- 
crating men  and  women  of  wealth  and  culture  and 
leisure  to  all  forms  of  ministry  upon  their  fellow- 
men.  Movements  like  that  of  the  Salvation  Army 
and  that  of  God's  Volunteers,  seeking  and  saving 
that  which  is  lost  in  the  very  spirit  of  Christ,  attest 
the  undying  power  of  the  love  of  Jesus.  Monster 
meetings,  such  as  those  which  have  been  held  in 
our  cities  from  the  days  of  the  inspiring  guidance 


The  Issues  343 

of  Mr.  Moody,  to  the  perspiring  impelling  of 
"Billy"  Sunday,  manifest  undiminished  interest 
in  the  subject  of  personal  religion.  The  largest 
social  organizations  in  the  country  are  carried  on, 
with  vast  memberships  and  in  high  state  of  effi- 
ciency, under  the  name  of  our  religion — the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  and  the  Young 
Women's  Christian  Association.  Within  the  soul 
of  Christendom  a  new  social  spirit  is  awaking, 
calling  man  not  merely  to  the  ministries  of  mercy, 
but  to  the  solemn  duty  of  justice.  In  our  own 
generation  a  visibly  new  and  higher  conception  of 
the  ethical  relationships  of  business  has  asserted 
itself,  promising  to  master  even  the  deepest  pas- 
sion of  mankind — the  love  of  money.  The  fresh 
forces  of  the  Christian  spirit  are  making  over  again 
every  field  of  human  helpfulness,  in  the  spirit  of 
Christ;  so  that  we  are  today  witnessing  the  growth 
of  a  new  education,  a  new  philanthropy,  a  new 
penology,  a  new  political  economy.  In  all  this 
we  see  the  signs  of  the  undying  ethical  vitality  in 
our  venerable  religion. 

A  material  age,  so  called,  may  be  impressed  with 
a  material  presentation  of  this  unexhausted  vital- 


344  Catholicity 

ity  of  Christianity.  In  the  United  States,  "the 
reHgious  bodies,  CathoHc,  Protestant,  Eastern 
Orthodox,  and  non-Christian,  had  in  191 6  an 
aggregate  of  over  40,000,000  communicants  or 
members.  ...  In  1890  the  total  rehgious  strength 
was  20,618,000,  so  that  in  twenty-six  years  follow- 
ing the  net  increase  has  been  19,398,000  or  94  per 
cent.,  while  the  gain  in  the  population  of  the 
country  for  the  same  period  has  been  about  39,- 
000,000  or  61  per  cent.  The  churches  therefore 
gained  faster  than  the  population  during  this 
period."'  The  latest  United  States  census  finds  no 
complete  estimate  of  the  total  money  contribu- 
tions for  church  work,  but  in  the  preceding  census 
the  Hon.  Robert  P.  Porter  stated  that  it  would  be 
"Perfectly  safe  to  put  the  figure  at  $150,000,000. " 
Such  active,  positive  and  reconstructive  forces 
in  the  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  religion,  are 
witnessed  in  no  other  religion  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  today. 

No  new  religion,  then,  is  needed,  but  only  the 
old  religion  renewed — not  the  cutting  down  of  the 

»  "  Federal  Council  Year  Book,"  191 7,  page  206. 


The  Issues  345 

old  tree,  but  the  vitalizing  of  the  old  life  which  still 
flows  from  the  roots,  through  the  trunk,  to  every 
outermost  branch  and  leaf ;  only  the  quickening  of 
the  sap  within  the  veins,  beneath  the  sun  of  a  new 
springtide.  A  religion  which  casts  its  roots  out 
as  far  and  wide  and  deep  as  Christianity  must 
draw  upon  the  imperishable  resources  of  the  soul 
of  man  for  the  freshening  forces  needed  in  every 
new  stage  of  its  development.  The  study  of 
Christianity  in  evolution  may  content  us  at  this 
point  with  a  deepened  conviction  that  our  children 
will  shelter  themselves  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
same  tree  of  life  under  which  we  have  found  rest 
and  sustenance. 

For  the  quickening  and  utilization  of  its  vitality 
we  turn  again  to  a  study  of  the  needs  of  readjust- 
ment of  Christianity  to  meet  the  issues  of  the  age. 
In  broader  study  suited  to  the  open  book  of  the 
broader  age,  we  are  guided  by  what  insight  we  can 
bring  to  bear  upon  those  same  human  instincts  and 
possibilities  that  are  outworking  through  this 
transitionary  day  as  they  were  through  the  evolu- 
tionary centuries  that  have  passed.  In  these 
findings  of  the  day  that  point  to  the  religion  of  the 


346  Catholicity 

morrow,  should  we  expect  a  breakdown  of  the 
universal  law?  Are  we  to  fear  greater  secularism 
instead  of  greater  unity;  a  self -exhausting  Babel  of 
theological  tongues  instead  of  a  self-strengthen- 
ing symphony  of  religious  convictions ;  the  destruc- 
tive artificiality  of  the  dark  ages  instead  of  the 
constructive  rationality  of  our  age  of  enlighten- 
ment? Rather  can  there  be  found  in  the  outcome 
the  pure  reward  of  logic  and  reason  and  spiritual 
sincerity — a  proved  catholicity.  Religion  gains 
strength  for  the  future  and  once  again  becomes 
man's  daily  life  as  all  the  studies  and  interests  of 
the  day,  deepening  and  widening,  reach  common 
laws  and  a  universal  light.  When  the  rationaliza- 
tion of  theology  and  the  spiritual  reward  of 
science  meet  there  comes  a  cosmic  understanding, 
assurance  and  inspiration  that,  more  and  more,  the 
dogmatist  is  learning  to  call  reason,  and  the  very 
atheist  to  call  religion. 

The  dominant  theological  movement  of  the 
nineteenth  century  was  gendered  by  the  dominant 
intellectual  and  moral  forces  of  that  century. 
Chief  among  these  unquestionably  have  been 
physical  science,  biblical  criticism,  the  compara- 


The  Issues  347 

tive  study  of  religion,  commerce  and  travel  and 
democracy. 

The  direction  of  the  movement  engendered  by 
the  interaction  of  these  forces  is  not  hard  to  deter- 
mine. All  alike  are  working  toward  the  ideas  of 
unity,  universality,  naturalness  (the  reign  of  law) 
and  progressiveness. 

Ph3^sical  science  is  disclosing  the  nature  of  the 
universe  as  a  system  which  is  at  unity  within  it- 
self, a  cosmos  which  is  one  throughout  all  its  parts. 
It  multiplies  vastly  the  varieties  of  life,  but  con- 
nects them  all  one  with  another,  binding  the  most 
widely  separated  spheres  together  in  one  vital 
unity,  making  all  "  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole." 
Thus  we  now  recognize,  through  spectrum  analysis, 
one  and  the  same  body  of  elements  in  all  the  worlds 
of  space ;  magnetic  attractions  and  radio-activities 
give  one  and  the  same  system  of  laws  throughout 
the  stellar  systems ;  in  all  forms  of  life  we  find  the 
same  forces  working  everywhere  in  the  universe. 
Eyen  do  we  begin  to  find  universal  appearances 
or  symbols  for  the  universal  principles,  for  the 
flower  forms  recur  through  the  gamut  of  manifesta- 
tions from  tiny  crystal    to  stupendous  nebulae. 


34^  Catholicity 

These  same  flower  forms,  procured  also  in  the 
tracings  of  the  vibrations  of  tuned  strings,  may 
verily  be  the  written  music  of  the  spheres. 

Physical  science  is  eliminating  the  realm  of  chaos 
and  introducing  a  realm  of  order  everywhere. 
We  know,  now,  that  in  the  heavens  above,  in  the 
earth  beneath  and  in  the  waters  under  the  earth, 
law  reigns.  "Wild  facts, "  which  seem  to  happen, 
serve  to  make  us  aware  of  reaches  of  law  which 
have  been  as  yet  unsuspected. 

Physical  science  reveals  to  us  as  its  most  mag- 
nificent generalization  the  doctrine  of  evolution; 
the  belief  that  all  things  are  in  a  perpetual  flux, 
that  nothing  is  fixed  or  final,  that  there  is  a 
veritable  organic  ascent  of  life,  that,  from  the 
bioplasmic  cell  upward  to  the  archangel,  life  is 
ever  in  continual  unfoldment  toward  higher  forms. 

The  direction  which  these  tendencies  of  physical 
science  are  forcing  upon  the  traditional  theology 
of  Christendom  is  obvious.  They  are  leading  our 
thought  away  from  the  differences  of  mankind 
toward  its  essential  unity.  They  are  teaching  us 
to  regard  men  as  verily  of  one  blood.  We  are  dis- 
cerning a  common  nature  beneath  the  variant  types 


The  Issues  349 

of  humanity;  are  recognizing  one  mind  acting  in 
men  of  all  races ;  creating  the  same  convictions  in 
the  souls  of  Hindoos  and  Egyptians,  Englishmen 
and  Frenchmen;  stirring  the  same  aspirations  in 
Persian  and  Greek,  American  and — may  we  yet 
hope — German;  waking  the  same  reverences  in 
the  spirit  of  man  of  all  lands  and  of  all  ages. 

All  life  being  under  the  universal  reign  of  law, 
religious  life  must  fit  into  the  general  scheme. 
Religion  is  now  seen  to  be  the  impression  made 
upon  the  spiritual  nature  of  man  by  the  universe 
which,  as  it  impresses  itself  upon  his  reason  and 
imagination,  calls  into  being  philosophy  and  poetry 
and  art  and  music  and  science.  Religion  is  not  a 
realm  beyond  law — it  is  the  highest  form  of  the 
universal  law.  Miracles  recede  into  the  back- 
ground of  our  modern  religious  outlook.  They 
can  only  be  unusual  manifestations  of  the  usual 
order,  glimpses  into  higher  realms  of  law,  opera- 
tions of  forces  hitherto  undreamed  of,  but  which 
have  been  always  at  work  and  which  have  worked 
harmoniously  with  other  and  known  forces. 
Whatever  the  wonders  of  the  New  Testament  may 
be,  they  are  one  and  the  same  with  the  wonder  of 


350  Catholicity 

the  blush  of  the  rose  and  of  the  poise  of  the  planets 
"singing  on  their  heavenly  way."  Religion  is 
taking  on,  therefore,  a  naturalistic  aspect;  not  as 
denying  supernatural  forces,  but  as  denying  simply 
any  extra-natural  means  and  methods  in  the  action 
of  the  soul  of  the  universe. 

In  an  age  of  science  the  one  thing  which  can 
surely  be  affirmed  of  theology  is  that  it  is  not  fixed 
and  final.  Theology,  like  every  other  product  of 
man*s  being,  must  be  an  expression  of  that  uni- 
verse, the  highest  generalization  of  which  yet 
reached  is  known  to  us  as  Evolution.  Creeds  that 
do  not  change  can  be  no  true  creeds.  The  deposit 
of  faith  is  the  mud  of  the  bottom  of  the  river  of 
life,  not  the  clear  flowing  waters  of  the  stream. 

The  tendency  of  biblical  criticism,  as  a  special 
form  of  literary  and  historical  criticism,  lies  in  the 
same  general  direction  with  that  taken  by  science. 
It  assumes,  in  its  very  existence,  that  the  bible 
is  a  book  like  other  books;  that,  whatever  else  it 
may  be,  it  is  a  genuine  fragment  of  human  litera- 
ture; that  it  is  subject  to  the  same  general  condi- 
tions as  all  forms  of  literature;  that  it  has  been 
evolved  under  the  same  laws  as  other  forms  of 


The  Issues  35 1 

letters.  The  progress  of  biblical  criticism  sets 
steadily  towards  conclusions  which  confirm  this 
conception  out  of  which  it  grew.  The  bible  takes 
its  place  among  other  books,  more  and  more 
indisputably.  It  ceases  to  be  an  exception  and 
becomes  a  member  of  a  class  in  literature — one, 
though  the  highest,  among  the  sacred  books  of  the 
world. 

It  is  no  longer  a  miracle — it  is  a  part  of  the  na- 
tural order  of  the  world  of  letters,  whatever  super- 
natural influences  flowed  into  it  and  still  flow  from 
it.  Its  authority,  therefore,  is  not  anything 
oracular,  inerrant,  final — it  is  the  authority  of  the 
truth  which  it  utters.  That  authority,  therefore, 
is  necessarily  open  to  the  challenge  of  criticism, 
liable  to  a  subpoena  before  the  higher  bar  of 
reason.  The  powers  of  the  human  mind  are 
thrown  open  to  all  new  knowledge;  the  soul  of 
man  receives  the  freedom  of  the  city  of  God — 
the  universe. 

The  tendency  of  the  comparative  study  of  re- 
ligion is  in  the  same  general  direction.  This 
really  brand-new  study  of  our  age  is  reveaHng, 
beyond  a  peradventure,  the  fact  that  the  principles 


352  Catholicity 

disclosed  by  science  in  its  study  of  the  physical 
world  are  those  which  disclose  themselves  to  the 
scientific  study  of  religion  as  governing  the  soul. 
The  great  forms  of  Unity,  Law,  Progress,  rise 
regnant  in  the  realm  of  religion. 

Religions  are  many — religion  proves  to  be  one. 
Human  nature  being  one  and  the  same,  and  the 
universe  confronted  by  man  being  one  and  the 
same,  human  thought  of  the  problem  of  the  uni- 
verse tends  to  develop  towards  the  same  forms. 
Given  the  same  stage  of  evolution,  the  same  en- 
vironment, and  there  will  appear  the  same  ideas, 
institutions,  ideals,  beliefs,  aspirations,  cults  and 
worships.  The  astonishing  parallelisms  between 
the  great  religions  of  the  earth  prove  to  be  no 
mere  accidents,  no  cribbings  from  Moses  by  Plato, 
no  benevolent  assimilations  of  the  ideas  of 
Buddhism  by  Christianity. 

There  is,  as  we  are  now  beginning  to  see,  no 
reality  in  the  distinction  between  the  true  religion 
and  false  religions,  save  as  a  matter  of  degrees  in 
development.  All  religions  are  false  as  they  are 
imperfect,  or  as  they  become  corrupt.  All  re- 
ligions are  true  as  they  develop  out  of  their  rude, 


The  Issues  353 

primitive  beginnings,  toward  ethical  and  spiritual 
ideals.  That  in  each  which  is  vital,  is  true — the 
truth  of  the  one  Light  "which  light eth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world. " 

Religion  itself  is  thus  coming  to  be  seen  as  a 
natural  evolution  from  a  supernatural  source. 
The  institutions  and  beliefs  of  Christianity  form 
no  mere  exception  in  a  universal  order — they  are 
the  highest  outcome  of  that  universal  order,  the 
flowering  forth  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  man. 
They  have  no  miraculous,  oracular  authority. 
They  are  not  fixed  and  final  forms.  They  are 
naturally  evolved,  naturally  evolving  still.  Their 
authority  over  man  is  the  authority  of  their  reason- 
ableness. The  Church  is  divine  as  the  State  is 
divine, — a  real  divineness,  though  a  natural  one; 
imposing  no  tyranny,  subjecting  no  reason,  en- 
slaving no  conscience. 

The  immense  international  commerce  and  travel 
brought  about  by  the  steam  engine  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  has  not  been  without  a  profound 
effect  upon  the  thought  of  man,  even  upon  his 
theological  thought.  And  this  influence  tends  in 
the  same  general  direction  with  that  into  which 

83 


354  Catholicity 

theology  is  being  driven  by  the  other  intellectual 
forces  of  our  day. 

The  merchant  and  the  tourist  are  enforcing  the 
movement  started  by  the  scholar  in  the  compara- 
tive study  of  religion.  We  are  finding  that  the 
heathen  is  also  human.  The  heathen  is  the  imper- 
fect Christian,  the  Christian  the  evolved  heathen. 
All  souls  are  proving  to  be  of  one  order.  We  no 
longer  dream  that  virtue  is  a  product  of  Christian 
lands  and  vice  of  heathen  soil.  Wherever  we 
wander  in  our  globe-trotting,  under  every  form  of 
religion,  we  find,  subject  to  the  influences  of  differ- 
ent environments  and  different  stages  of  evolution, 
the  same  aspirations  after  goodness,  the  same  rever- 
ences before  the  mysteries  of  the  universe,  one  and 
the  same  faith  and  hope  and  love.  The  petty 
parochialism  of  piety  passes  on  into  a  universal!  sm 
of  religion.  The  cosmopolitanism  of  commerce  is 
correlating  into  the  catholicity  of  Christianity. 

The  influence  of  democracy  upon  theology  is 
also  in  the  same  general  direction.  Democracy 
is  the  succession  of  the  demos  to  the  throne  of  the 
king.  External  authority  gives  way  to  internal 
authority.     Democracy  is  the  denial  of  caste,  the 


The  Issues  355 

affirmation  of  the  common  stuff  of  manhood, 
whether  in  the  Brahmin  or  the  Pariah,  the  noble- 
man or  the  serf.  It  is  the  repudiation  of  the 
right  of  one  ehte  class  of  mankind  to  monopolize 
any  of  the  good  things  of  the  earth  for  its  own 
special  use;  whether  those  good  things  be  the 
ignoble  luxuries  which  money  can  buy,  or  those 
better  things  of  the  mind  and  soul,  "more  to  be 
desired  than  gold,  yea,  than  much  fine  gold,*'  the 
truths  upon  which  man's  spirit  liveth.  Democ- 
racy is  the  rejection  of  the  belief  that  there  are 
any  pets  of  God  in  His  earthly  family — coal  barons, 
for  whom  He  stores  the  earth  with  anthracite,  or 
elect  races  on  whom  He  lavishes  the  gifts  of  His 
Spirit.  It  is  the  affirmation  of  the  truth  thaf  all 
men  are  "the  bairns,"  as  St.  John  phrases  it,  of  a 
just  and  loving  Father,  who  shares  His  estate, 
material  and  spiritual,  equitably  among  His 
children.  Democracy,  making  away  from  arti- 
ficial authority  toward  natural  authority,  from 
privilege  toward  equal  opportunity,  from  injustice 
enthroned  upon  the  universe  toward  the  universal 
reign  of  justice  and  love,  is  everywhere  steadily, 
surely,  revolutionizing  theology,  and,  in  its  way, 


35^  Catholicity 

forcing  on  the  new  era  which  is  looming  large 
above  the  horizon  of  earth. 

The  general  direction  of  the  theological  move- 
ment of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  resultant  from 
the  interaction  of  the  thought  forces  of  the  century, 
must  now  be  unmistakably  clear.  This  move- 
ment is  everywhere  in  the  direction  of  expansion, 
the  pushing  forward  of  limited,  partial,  narrow 
conceptions  into  large  and  ever-enlarging  concep- 
tions,— universal,  necessary,  natural. 

Every  particular  doctrine  of  the  Reformation 
Confessions,  the  secondary  body  of  beliefs  growing 
round  the  true  creeds  of  Christendom,  is  dropping 
whatever  is  petty,  special,  particular,  exclusive, 
artificial,  unnatural,  irrational  and  unethical  in 
its  dogmatic  forms,  and  is  taking  on  aspects  which 
are  big,  generic,  universal,  natural,  rational  and 
ethical.  What  can  not  survive  this  process  will 
fall  away  and  die.  Such  inversely  succulent  sec- 
tions of  our  Thirty-nine  Articles  as  these  will  be 
missed  altogether  in  the  theology  of  the  twentieth 
century.  Under  the  climbing  life  of  man  and  his 
clearing  vision  of  God,  all  beliefs  of  the  Reforma- 
tion theology  that  have  sap  in  them  will  grow  out 


The  Issues  357 

into  forms  shaping  themselves  after  the  order  of 
the  universe,  as  we  are  learning  to  know  it,  rational, 
sane,  consistent  with  justice,  consonant  with  the 
goodness  which  in  man  is  seen  to  be  the  shadow  of 
the  absolute  rectitude  of  God. 

A  similar  process,  on-going  in  the  Catholic 
creeds,  will  issue  in  a  transformation  of  them  which 
need  not  necessarily  involve  any  verbal  changes, 
but  merely  a  realignment  of  their  beliefs  around  the 
new  theism ;  an  interpretation  of  them  in  terms  of 
universality,  naturalness,  progressiveness.  They 
will  be  recognized  not  simply  as  forms  of  the  Chris- 
tian consciousness,  but  as  something  larger — forms 
of  the  human  consciousness ;  not  as  belonging  only 
to  the  species  Christianity,  but  to  the  genus  hu- 
manity. In  them  will  be  recognized  the  mystic 
truths  of  that  "hidden  wisdom"  which  was  to  be 
found  in  every  land,  under  every  system  of  religion. 

The  purely  spiritual  contents  of  the  great 
Catholic  creeds,  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  etc.,  will  be 
perceived  to  be  the  heritage  of  our  common  hu- 
manity; becoming  positive  affirmations  of  faith 
wherever  a  great  religion  evolves  into  the  stage  of 
ethical  and  spiritual  life. 


358  Catholicity 

The  two  fundamental  doctrines  of  the  CathoHc 
creeds,  the  doctrine  of  God  and  the  doctrine  of 
immortaHty,  will  be  recognized,  not  as  the  exclu- 
sive possession  of  Christendom,  but  as  the  com- 
mon possession  of  mankind. 

The  intellectual  form  in  which  the  fundamental 
truth  of  God  is  cast  will  be  discerned  as  no  mere 
peculiarity  of  Christianity,  but  as  the  mould  of 
thought  everywhere  fashioned  by  the  mind  of  man, 
when  that  mind  has  attained  maturity.  The  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  is  even  now  seen  to  be  in  no 
sense  whatever  a  distinctive  Christian  doctrine. 
It  is  already  perceived  that  it  antedates  Chris- 
tianity, that  it  was  evolved  in  almost  every 
great  religion  of  antiquity,  that  its  presence  in 
Christendom  is  due  to  the  assimilative  process 
under  which  Christian  Gnosticism  absorbed  so 
much  of  Eastern  cosmological  speculation,  that 
it  is  the  necessary  thought-form  in  which  the 
recognition  of  the  variet}^  in  unity  of  the  Divine 
Being  must  needs  be  cast  by  the  human 
intellect. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation,  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  creeds,  is  issuing  from  the  theological 


The  Issues  359 

movement  of  our  age  as  no  merely  Christian  doc- 
trine, but  a  human  truth. 

It  is  thus  coming  to  be  seen  that  the  idea  of  an 
Incarnation  of  The  Logos  is  as  old  as  man's 
philosophy,  as  widespread  as  his  life  on  earth; 
that  it  is  a  common  heritage  of  humanity,  a  doc- 
trine whose  note  is  universality ;  that  it  denotes  no 
mere  exception  in  a  universe  of  law  and  order, 
but  that  it  is  the  very  heart  of  this  universe,  the 
key  to  the  riddle  of  life ;  that  it  connotes  not  alone 
an  embodying  of  the  Divine  Being  in  one  individual, 
of  one  epoch  of  history,  but  that  it  is  the  symbol 
of  a  universal  process,  whereby  and  wherein  the 
universe  itself  is  the  body  of  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Spirit;  whereby  and  wherein  man,  as  the 
crown  and  consummation  of  the  organic  processes 
of  the  universe,  is  the  supreme  ensouling  of  the 
Divine  Being;  whereby  and  wherein  what  is  true, 
in  differing  degrees,  of  each  man,  of  the  greater 
souls  among  men,  is  supremely  true  of  the  Supreme 
Man,  the  Man  in  whom  the  goodness  which  is  the 
heart  of  the  creation  lives  forth  perfectly,  so  that 
we  reverently  say  of  Him:  "The  Word  was  made 
flesh,  and  tabernacled  among  us;  and  we  behold 


36o  Catholicity 

His  glory,  the  glory  as  of  the  Only-Begotten  of  the 
Father,  full  of  graciousness  and  truth." 

The  Catholic  creeds  will  thus  affirm  to  our 
children,  not  merely  the  contents  of  the  Christian 
consciousness,  but  the  contents  of  the  human 
consciousness,  as  historically  evolved  in  the  pro- 
cesses of  the  ages.  They  will  be  reverenced  and 
trusted  as  reflecting  in  man's  thought  the  mystic 
secrets  of  the  cosmos,  the  constitution  and  order 
of  the  universe.  But  they  will  be  reverenced  for 
their  real  nature,  not  for  their  imagined  character. 
They  will  be  taken  for  what  they  are,  not  for  what 
they  are  not;  symbols  of  a  knowledge  which  is  as 
natural  as  other  human  knowledge,  not  for  oracles 
of  supernatural  information.  As  "cosmic  creeds" 
they  can  never  again  be  fancied  fixed  and  final 
forms  of  faith,  but  will,  of  necessity,  be  recognized 
as  pliant  and  plastic  symbols  of  the  fluent  processes 
of  evolving  life,  opening  ever  new  and  higher 
significances  in  "germinant  fulfilments." 

The  historic  personality  who  is  at  the  heart  of 
the  Catholic  creeds  will  be  found  to  have  with- 
stood the  critical  processes  which  threatened  to 
resolve  it  into  legend  and  myth,  and,  instead  of 


The  Issues  361 

issuing  as  fable,  to  issue  as  fact,  having  the  solidity 
of  history — the  rock  which  thence  forth  never  more 
can  be  shaken.  The  Man  Christ  Jesus,  in  the 
moral  miracle  of  His  perfect  character,  in  the 
sacramental  mystery  of  His  cosmic  consciousness, 
will  stand  forth  forever  as  the  sacred  shrine  of 
man*s  hope  and  faith,  the  mercy  seat  of  the  loving 
God.  In  Him  the  human  ideal  will  continue  to  be 
reverently  seen  embodied,  that  ideal  after  which 
our  human  lives  are  to  pattern  themselves  in  all 
loving  loyalty.  In  His  mirroring  eyes  coming 
generations  will  read  the  secret  of  the  universe, 
and  see  in  the  power  in  which  we  live  and  move  and 
have  our  being,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven." 
The  nineteenth  century  may  have  been  a  period 
of  the  decline  of  great  convictions — the  twentieth 
century  will  prove  a  period  of  the  renewal  and  the 
reaffirmation  of  great  convictions.  The  central 
faiths  of  Christendom  will  be  found  to  warrant 
themselves  as  the  universal  faiths  of  man,  stand- 
ing plumb  upon  the  deep  bedrock  of  the  human 
reason  and  conscience,  buttressing  on  our  new 
knowledge  in  science  and  philosophy  and  art  and 
sociology.     Man  will  know  that  he  holds  in  these 


Z^^  Catholicity 

great  Christian  creeds  "the  ardent  and  massive 
experiences  of  mankind,"  in  "a  form  of  sound 
words, "  forth  from  which  will  issue  in  new  activi- 
ties the  spiritual  and  ethical  energy  for  the  regener- 
ation of  the  world,  the  realization  of  the  prayer  of 
our  Master,  "Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be 
done  on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  the  heavens." 


Date  Due 

i 

%  *? 

1 

f) 

